We'll Start Here
by Astrid16
Summary: A series of one-shots for my fic, True Grit. Some fluff, some hurt-comfort. Rated T for blood, implied sexual themes.
1. We'll Start Here

**Howdy! So...I was babysitting all day today. This kind of came out because I was thinking of songs by Red (namely, Hymn for the Missing, Pieces, and Hold Me Now). And thus this little story was born. I really miss Hagar. :'( **

**Please enjoy, and leave a review! Though this was just for fun, a lot of effort (seriously! It must be because this happens before Cole kidnaps Kai!) and research went into this. Like, what in the Overlord's name. This was way harder than I thought it would be. **

**If you guys really like this, then maybe I'll start doing requests and adding more to it! :D **

**So...warnings. Pretty self-explanatory, if you read the synopsis. Plus, I'm Astrid, plus, this is TG we're talking about. You all know how T-rated my work is. I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. But I promise it's T. **

* * *

_We'll Start Here  
A True Grit One-shot_

* * *

Cole crossed the deck of the Black Bounty, only half-aware of the speed of his ship as it flew over the Dark Island. He held in one hand a rope and in the other an apple.

The torches along the stairs guided his descent, and he continued down the hall, now below deck. He could hear the shouts of his stone warriors as they prepared to land and disembark the Black Bounty at the Overlord's compound, which was less than five minutes away. Which meant Cole only had that much time to get this job done.

He stopped before a door. Tediously balancing both the apple and the rope in one hand, he reached into his pocket, searching for his ring of keys. He found it, selected the key he wanted, and inserted it into the lock, wiggling it until it pressed the catch, then slid the whole contraption up until it clicked. Lock disengaged, he lifted the latch and opened the door.

The room was dark despite the large window on the far wall. It was warm, too, and smelled of human waste. Cole hated that smell, though it was hardly avoidable. He had a prisoner who had not left this room once being kidnaped nigh on a week ago.

Cole cleared his throat. "We're almost there," he said.

His prisoner sat with her back to him, slouched on the floor. Her black hair was shiny with grease. She wore a blue dress, stained with blood. Blood not from any injury, but from her menstruation.

Poor woman. He had offered her plenty of rags, pain-numbing ointment, and every other comfort he could think of. Each lay untouched beside her. She had hardly even moved since he'd first locked her up.

Cole took an empty glass from the floor beside her and filled it from a pitcher on a table against the wall to his left. He knelt beside the woman and lifted the glass to her lips. "Take it," he said, unable to look into her lifeless brown eyes for more than a few seconds. "Please. You'll be glad you did later. It's hot out there."

He coaxed a sip past her cracked lips, and then she took the cup and drank it in a few long pulls. She handed it back.

"Thank you," Cole said. He then held out the apple. "Will you eat?"

She shook her head. Cole had expected nothing less than this, of course. She had accepted no food on this journey and very little drink.

Cole sighed and pocketed the fruit. He hadn't been this kind to the other prisoners, already on the deck; they gave him enough hate and resistance that it was easy to hate them back. But this girl...she did not hate him, she was grieving. And it shook his heart until he was certain he'd go numb.

He scooted a little closer, trying to ignore he fact that his knees were dragging through a puddle of her blood. This was wrong. A man was never meant to see a woman go through this. It was shameful, for both her and him. But there was nothing that could be done about it unless she finally decided to stand up and take care of herself. And he _certainly_ wasn't about to do this for her, so they were stuck at an impasse.

"You understand," Cole said, grabbing the rope from the floor beside him, "I need to tie your hands when we depart. It's the Overlord's rules."

Her eyes flitted to his, full of sorrow. But not fear. She had given up being afraid of him after the second day; he had been nothing but gentle to her.

"You're okay with that?" Cole asked. He cleared his throat. "Ahem. Liana?"

The woman Liana nodded and offered him her hands.

"Thank you," Cole said. He began winding the ropes around her frail wrists. "I'll be as gentle as possible, okay? They won't chafe you."

Liana blinked once slowly, eyes on her hands. "Why?" she whispered. "Why me?"

Two words. Those two simple words seemed to entail so much. _Why her?_ Why had her mother been brutally murdered by a stone warrior, against his explicit orders? Why had Liana been chosen by the Overlord? Why had her father been left all alone, the family he had cultivated for over twenty years toppled suddenly by a wicked enemy overseas?

Cole shook his head. "I don't know," he said. He finished the knot and slid his fingers under the ropes to ensure they weren't too tight. Satisfied, he stood, then helped Liana to her feet.

The ship rocked unsteadily, losing speed. They were preparing to land.

"Come on," Cole said. He placed a hand on her arm and led her slowly from the room, pretending not to notice the trail of blood she was leaving on the floorboards. "Let's go meet the Overlord."

* * *

Cole left the Overlord's fortress, doing his best to ignore the dark storm clouds gathering in his heart. The sky overhead was clear and bright, filled with chirping birds. All around him, the smallest children crawled around in the grass, sheltered by the tall and bushy fruit trees. Every two children were accompanied by one caretaker: typically the young girls and infertile women.

Each caretaker pulled their charges well out of his way when he walked the path through the trees. It hurt him to see the fear in their eyes, but he knew he deserved it. Because in the eyes of those around him, he was the Dark Knight, the third-in-command of this hellish compound.

Third-in-command. Ha. What a joke. Might as well just say it like it was: that he was at the bottom of the pecking order.

Cole finally saw them, standing where they typically waited in the avocado grove. Hagar and Varasach, with four little children playing at their feet.

His eyes met Hagar's, and they broke into a sprint for each other. They collided in the middle, embracing with enough strength to shoot stars through Cole's vision. He shut his eyes against the tears and just held her, head on her shoulder.

"I am so glad you are back," Hagar whispered.

"Me too," Cole said._ I'd be gladder if I didn't have to bring back all these prisoners each time._ But he refrained from saying so out loud. He just held her tight, soaking in her scent, trying to convince himself that he was really here with _her_. "I love you," he said.

"Mmm. I love you too." She pulled away an inch and sniffed his mouth.

"You know I wouldn't," Cole said. "I know the rules. No wine for twenty-four hours before coming home." It was Hagar's rule, of course. She hated the way his mouth tasted when he drank any kind of alcohol.

Satisfied, she kissed him. He kissed back, ignoring that little voice in his head that said he shouldn't. That he did not deserve her, and that she was off-limits. Too much of an angel to ever be one with him, the demon.

Cole pulled away first, stroking her dirt-brown hair. "It looks shinier than usual today," he said.

"Mmm," she said, selecting a handful of the long locks and examining them doubtfully. "I...washed it with extra lemon oil. It is good?"

"Beautiful," Cole said. He kissed her cheek. "It's extra soft, too. Hey, Vara, why are you still over there?" He waved her forward.

Varasach set down the child she was holding and walked to him, smiling tentatively. "Keydra," she said, stepping into his open arms.

"Keydra," Cole replied, kissing her forehead. "Hi, Vara. How are you?"

"Weh," she said. Then she hesitated. "Um...good."

"Good. I'm glad." He ran a hand through her hair too, which was tangled and unwashed. The poor girl was always so busy, she never had time to take care of herself. Which made him feel guilty about saying this next part.

"I have good news, Sage," he said.

"Hmm?" Hagar said, preoccupied with the whining child that had crawled over to her.

"Overlord said I could have the next twelve days to do whatever I want," Cole said. "And he said I could have you with me."

This caught her attention. Her silver eyes searched his. "No children?" she asked. "Just us two?"

Cole nodded. "I asked for Vara, too, but he said no."

"What about these two?" she asked, looking down at what had become two whining children clinging to her dress.

"He'll have one of his two girls take care of them," Cole answered.

Hagar's face darkened. "That means they would be near Overlord," she said.

"No, no," Cole said. "He's going to let Hrymerv stay here on the surface."

Hagar's eyebrows shot up. "He must be in a very good mood," she said.

"Yeah. Something about the prisoners I brought today made him pretty giddy." Thinking of Liana made the storm clouds in his heart all the thicker and darker. Guilt.

Hagar did not seem to catch on to his secret feelings. She was too excited. She laughed, kissing his mouth and cheeks and nose. "I can not wait," she said. "Thank you."

"Yeah." Cole picked up one child- a boy- and held him out at arms length. "Are you ready?" he said, throwing the toddler into the air and catching him. "I've heard that Hrymerv is very nice. She's had a few little ones of her own and knows just how to make them happy."

The little boy giggled and batted Cole's cheek with his palm. He smiled a gummy, two-toothed smile.

"Not as happy as when he is with you," Hagar said, picking up the girl. "He enjoys playing with you most of all. Sweet little Steph."

"Oh, is that so?" Cole said, grimacing as Steph beat his face with both hands. "I can really feel the love."

Varasach giggled, scooping her two toddlers expertly into her arms. They immediately calmed down, nuzzling into her chest. "Go," she said. "Mvamph."

"Yeah, goodbye," Cole said, depositing Steph into Hagar's free arm. He pulled Varasach, children and all, into a hug. "I'm sorry, I'll try to convince him to let you go another day."

"Mmm." She smiled. "Yes. Bye."

Cole stepped back and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Stay out of trouble." He winked. Of course, staying out of trouble here just meant following the three simple rules of the compound: stay on the western side of the river, don't get in the path of a stone warrior, and keep the children alive.

Varasach nodded.

"Good." Cole took Steph back and nodded to the path. "Let's get going, Hagar. We want to get to my home before sundown."

Hagar's eyes lit up. She'd never been to his cave, which was on the _eastern_ side of the river. "Yes," she said, now more eager than ever. "We will go."

* * *

Cole awoke early one morning, blinking at the rays of sunlight that streaked through the cave's entrance. To his left he could hear water trickling into the pool.

And then there was Hagar, who slept with her head in the crook of his arm, hand on his bare chest. Her bosom rose and fell with each deep pull of her breath. She looked as innocent as a dove. Her skin was smooth as cream, and brown like tea.

He took in her scent- citrusy, fresh like the sky after rain- through his nostrils, unable to help the smile that crept onto his lips. She was so perfect. Unlike her name, which meant _forsaken one_, he knew he would never leave her. She was worth too much.

The light continue to creep along the floor, traveling from left to right, until the sun finally moved to the other side of the hill, leaving the cave in shadows.

Cole didn't want to be in the dark. So he slid out of bed, careful not to wake Hagar, and found his trousers on the floor. He shuddered at the mess they had made the night before. His shirt, her dress, and each of their undergarments, all crumpled on the floor where they had been discarded.

What had come over him? Such a mess.

He slipped on his pants and left Hagar's clothes in a stack beside his shirt, then went to a crate and pulled the lid free. He found his journal between two other books at the box's bottom. Replacing the lid quietly- he didn't want to wake Hagar- he went to the cave's entrance and climbed out.

The air was fresh and warm, and a breeze blew through the trees surrounding the hill. _His_ hill. This was _his_ domain, the one thing in this world that even the Overlord had no knowledge of. No one could touch it without his permission.

Still smiling, he settled into a cleft between two rocks and flipped open the journal, pulled the pencil from its pocket, and began writing in his swirling, airy script. Father called it feminine; Mother said it was refined.

_Tenth morning of Tera's moon, year six-hundred and thirty-four._

_Sage and I have been here for three days now. Nine days left. Not enough time._

He lifted the pencil with a sigh, eyes drifting to the west.

_I wonder what Vara is doing now. And I know I said it two days ago, but I really hope she isn't upset that she couldn't come with us. Still, it's nice to have some time alone with Sage. Just the two of us._

_We finally did it last night, Sage and I. We've been talking about it jokingly for months now, but when we'd been given this time off, the thought became serious._

_I know in a different entry, I'd said that I was confused about my feelings. But this week, while I was on the boat, I realized that she creeps into every thought. For hours each day I'd pace the deck, just wishing that the Dark Island would appear so that I could see her, hold her, kiss her. I was even able to justify my cruelty to those prisoners, just because I knew that I would never see Hagar again if I disobeyed the Overlord. _

_So as I saw her under that avocado tree waiting for me, I felt happiness. Imagine that! I ran into her arms, and I felt like maybe- just maybe- this is where I belong. Not over in Ninjago with my blood family- though I do wish them the best- but here, with the sister I hold dear, and with the woman I call my wife._

_My parents can live without me. But these two need me. Who else would protect them from this horrible place?_

_But I got off track. I was talking about..._

Cole scanned the page, trying to remember.

_...Sage and I. What we did last night. Now, I know it's wishful thinking- because she's been infertile her whole life- but more than anything, I want to start a family with her. Wouldn't that be incredible?_

_I'm leaving this winter, when my contract is complete. I'm worried that if I did manage to get her pregnant, she might get taken to the brothels, and she wouldn't be allowed to leave with me. I wouldn't want that to happen. So..._

He stopped again, pondering this. So...what? What would he do?

_...I'll work extra hard. If I can pull off another difficult job that makes Overlord as happy as the one I did last week, he might let me keep her forever._

Forever. This word pleased Cole. He spent a little extra time and care making the word as neat and elegant as possible.

"What are you doing?"

Cole snapped the book shut and hid it from sight. "Nothing."

Hagar sat down on the rocks beside him, one hand at her chest to keep the untied folds of her dress in place. "Mmm. Yes. Very likely." She leaned over, trying to look at his hands hidden behind his back. "It was a book?"

"Yeah."

"So why are you hiding it?"

"It's private!"

"Says the man who did _what_ with me last night?" She pounced, attempting to wrestle his arms into view.

"Oh, you're not really going to try that, are you?" Cole asked, not even flinching as she pummeled his biceps. "That's cute."

"I _am_ trying that," she said, trying hard to keep her stern frown intact as she climbed onto his legs for better leverage.

"Yeah, like that's going to help you," Cole said, leaning in so they were nose-to-nose. "And tighten your dress straps. I can see your- Mmph!"

Hagar gave him a firm kiss, hands now gripping his lower arms.

A million years later, they pulled away. Cole was dazed, and Hagar had the book.

When Cole stopped seeing double, he saw what she had done and shook his head. "You sneak," he said, reaching for it.

But Hagar was already on her feet, laughing at her accomplishment. She flipped through the pages, squinting.

Cole's face flushed. He did not want her to see what he had written. If she knew what he felt about her, what-

"What does it say?" she asked.

Cole blinked. "You can't read?"

Hagar shook her head. "Not this language."

"But...you can speak it."

"That is not the same as reading."

Right. Duh.

Cole scratched the back of his neck. "Well, umm...let me go and get another book, and I can teach you-"

"No," she said, setting Cole's journal on his lap. "I want to read this one."

Cole almost cursed. He was about to say no, but the look in her eyes changed is mind.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Sit down. I'll teach you a few things."

He was safe. They only had nine more days. That was hardly enough time for her to learn enough to actually _read_ his words...right?

Hagar snuggled beside him, her skin glowing like polished brass in the sunlight. She set her chin on his shoulder and put her hand over his on the journal.

Cole breathed in deeply, then blew it out through his lips. Why was he so hesitant? She knew everything else about him, so why not let her read this, all his thoughts and desires since arriving on the Dark Island?

"Okay," he said, flipping it to the first page. _Eighteenth morning of Vori's moon, year six-hundred and thirty-two_. "We'll start here..."

* * *

**I've always wanted to do that. End a chapter with an ellipses, that is. :3 How did I do? (Apologies for any mistakes, too. I only read it through once after writing it.)**

** I was dubious about adding that date in the final paragraph. Did it ruin the moment or add to it?**

**Thanks for reading, even if you aren't into TG (yet. Mwahaha)! I hope it was enjoyable! Please leave some comments, and maybe follow/fav? Like I said, if this idea appeals to you, I might continue it with little snapshots of Cole's life, or maybe even do other TG pairings! (cannon with my story, of course! No Nya and Jay snogging on the beach (though that's a funny thought)! GreenCircuit? KaixBesai? More ColexHagar? Or should this story stay complete with no sequels? **


	2. Apologize

**Howdy! So I promised I'd get this done this week, and I did. With one day to spare. Phew. ^^; I hope you enjoy. **

**So I'm really sorry, I meant for this to be a bit different than how it turned out. Can you guys forgive me? :( It was supposed to be a story for StoneByrd's drawing, 'Bribery'. (Find it and more on Deviantart.) And while I kept many of the same principles we'd discussed, a lot of it got all messed up too. **

**So warnings. Umm... Shoujo-Manga-style-accidental-sexual-harassment. I guess. It's clean. Sorry. And we all know Pixal, there'll be some minor swear words. **

* * *

**Apologize **

* * *

Pixal hated parties. And why wouldn't she? Parties were silly, pointless affairs in which the wealthy merchants mingled with the nobility, vying for favor, loyalty, and more money. Sure, the King called it his chance to 'get in touch with the common man', but seriously. Did people actually buy that?

Everyone, man and woman, wore elegant clothing and jewelry. They walked elegantly. They talked elegantly. By the fourth moon, they even _ate_ elegantly.

An orchestra played soft music on a balcony to Pixal's left. The decorations- banners, flowers, etcetera- were set tastefully around the large, windowed ballroom of King Garmadon's keep. The Shim moon was dark- about to make the transition to the Lei- so candles and torches provided the only light.

Pixal heard a laugh, and she looked up from her book to see Prince Lloyd. He was standing in the center of a group of nameless rich merchants, telling a joke of some sort. He didn't seem to notice her. Which was fine; the last thing she wanted was a conversation to distract her from her book.

Pixal took a sip of pink wine out of a cup, set it back on the floor beside her, and picked up where she'd left off.

More laughter from Lloyd's group, and a bit of shouting from Lord Kaytake as he called for a servant to fetch some more meats.

Pixal slammed the book shut with a sigh. These parties drove her insane. Too noisy for the relaxing, sleepy, nighttime ambiance they gave off. The ambiance that _would_ have been perfect for reading, should these people all decide to leave her alone.

Grumbling, she lifted her glass again and took in a slurping mouthful. To damnation with manners, she just wanted to go home.

"Well, aren't you just a big, happy bouquet of daffodils and daisies." Lloyd was suddenly standing over her, his crowd abandoned. He wore a green tunic with a bejeweled belt; a shiny golden quarter cloak hung from his shoulders. "Hey. Isn't it a bit unladylike to sit on the floor like that? Especially in a dress."

The dress Pixal wore was white with lots of lace, long sleeves, and a plunging neckline. The skirts tangled around her feet as she sat, legs stretched out. Personally, she's hated the getup. But Father had insisted that she wear it at least once; it had been her mother's before she'd died fifteen years before.

"Oh, and you're one to talk about etiquette," Pixal replied.

"Actually, yes. I'm a prince. Etiquette is my middle name." He then dropped to the floor next to her and set his back against the wall. "Good book?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. Let me see it." Without waiting for permission, Lloyd took it from her lap and flipped through the pages. "Oh! This is that story based on legends of Songlight!"

"Yeah."

"I've read it, like, five times," Lloyd said. "It's got a lot of action in it." He drew his legs close and sighed. "Didn't like the ending, though. Kinda depressing. Don't tell my dad, but the poem made me cry a little."

"Which one?"

"You know," Lloyd said, "that one near the end. _O Songlight pure, O Songlight fair, Keep you safe, that was her prayer..._"

Pixal finished it. "_When world is safe, when won the war, He would return, to this he swore_."

Lloyd shook his head. "It was _so_ tragic."

"I guess."

Lloyd gawked. "You _guess_? What kind of an answer is that? It was heartbreaking! Don't tell me it didn't make you feel at least a little bit sad."

"Not really. It was predictable."

Lloyd pulled at his hair. "Oh, the agony," he moaned. "I'm in love with a soulless psychopath."

"Get over yourself. We both know I don't love you back."

"So heartless," Lloyd said. He put his head in his hands and pretended to sob. "I have women hiding around every corner, begging me to marry them. But the one girl I like refuses to admit- Ow!"

Pixal slapped his head with the book. "Stupid," she said. "I'm not admitting anything."

Lloyd perked up. "Oh, so you admit that there's something for you to admit?"

"Wha...when..." Pixal scowled. "That made no sense. But no, I'm not admitting any nonexistent love for you, and no, I never will. Go marry that attractive little black-haired lady that's been fawning over you all evening."

"You mean Lucine?" Lloyd made a face. "Eew, no. Please. You know, her family isn't even all that important. She only got into this party because of a boon my father owed hers."

"Ouch. Okay, then how about Ali?" Pixal pointed to a petite young woman in a lacy lavender dress.

"She's not interested."

"Well, that doesn't seem to stop you from chasing me," Pixal said. "Eh...wait. She's seriously not interested in becoming Queen?"

"Nope. Apparently she likes your brother instead."

"Zane?" Pixal barely suppressed a snort. "Oh, perish the thought. Him married?"

Lloyd shrugged.

"Well, then," Pixal said. "Uh...Nya. She's nice. Look at her, over there on the balcony. She's got a young man on her tail, probably making her uncomfortable. Oh, wait. That young man is my brother. Well, there goes that, Ali. Sorry."

"Heh," Lloyd said. "But not Ali, Pixal, I like making you uncomfortable instead."

"That's very adult of you, Lloyd."

"Thanks. I've always been very confident in my immaturity." Lloyd smirked. "But Kai is here too. He'll make sure that Nya doesn't get into too much _uncomfortableness_."

Pixal picked up her glass and sipped at it again. "You're not going to let me get back to this book, then, are you?"

"Wasn't planning on it." Lloyd snapped his fingers, as if remembering something. "Hey. We could go out to the garden and do some fencing."

Pixal cocked a brow. "After all that you've done to annoy me? I can't guarantee your safety."

"I'll survive," Lloyd said, standing. He held out a hand for her. "Come on. I've been dying to show you some new tricks."

Pixal eyed the open hand skeptically for a long moment. "Fine," she said, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "But I'm going to butcher you."

"Great!" Lloyd interlocked their fingers and darted for the exit doors beneath the far balcony.

Pixal blushed as she half-followed, half-resisted his pull. _Moons_, he was strong. And everyone- King Garmadon included- watched with some disinterest as the duo left the party.

_Great. Now everyone's going to get the wrong impression,_ she thought as they entered the magnificent, starlit gardens. Here in the Middle, the conditions were perfect for plants of all varieties. This was made apparent by the fantastic array of flowers, bushes, and trees that swayed in the warm breeze: Lei's moon always brought the warmest spring weather.

"Now..." Lloyd released her hand and whirled to face her. "Confession. I kinda lied about us fencing."

"What?" Pixal glanced over her shoulder at the distant light from the open ballroom door. "Why?"

"Yeah, sorry," Lloyd said. "I wanted to ask you a question. Privately."

Pixal crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah? Spit it out. If it's a decent question, I'll let you die semi-painlessly."

Lloyd blushed. "I...I noticed that you aren't really enjoying the party?"

Was this seriously his question? "Not particularly," she said.

"Why not?" Lloyd asked.

"They get a little boring after the three-hundredth one," Pixal replied.

Lloyd rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I feel you there. So..."

"So, what?"

"So is that really all that's bothering you?"

"Yeah," Pixal said. "Why is this important?"

Lloyd searched her eyes for a while before answering. "Because I want to make you happy."

This provoked a response Pixal did not intend or desire. She blushed with him. To cover for the mistake, she shouted. "Go pick on someone else! Ugh, do you realize how angry you make me?"

Lloyd didn't look daunted. He squinted at her, lowered his hand, and grinned. "What does it take to make you smile?" he said, more to himself than to her. "A gift? No, you don't appreciate those. A joke? I've still got some scars from that fiasco." He went into a crouch. "There's only one thing left to try."

Pixal caught on a second too late. And then she couldn't defend herself because he already had her up against a tree, fingers digging into her sides.

"Tickle fight!" Lloyd said a little too loudly.

"Lloyd!" Pixal bellowed. She grabbed his arms and tried to push him away, but he was too strong. "Stop it! Now!" But she was laughing. Her nerves were too high-strung, and every little movement from Lloyd had her wriggling like an agitated snake.

"I did it!" Lloyd said. He backed away, beaming at his accomplishment. "Oh, yeah. I did it-"

Pixal lunged and shoved Lloyd to the ground. Her smile was sharp and cruel as the aforementioned snake's. "You," she growled, straddling his midriff, hands on his chest, "are going to _die_."

Her face went close to his, and she hissed the words through her teeth. "I will murder you."

The gravity of the situation seemed to dawn on Lloyd then, because his eyes went wide with panic. He pressed his palms to her chest and pushed in a mad attempt to free himself. "L-listen, Pixal," he said. "I-I'm sorry. Yeah, that wasn't very tactful of me. But please...don't do anything crazy. If my dad-"

"Pixal?" a frail voice called out. "Pixal, dear, are you out here?"

Pixal's face blanched. It was her father.

"Cyrus says he saw you and Lloyd come out here a moment ago. I just wanted to tell you, the orchestra is playing your favorite..." He saw his daughter and the Prince in the grass, and he faltered "...song. Never mind." He removed his bifocals and wiped them clean on his sleeve as he walked away.

Pixal looked down at Lloyd. He looked back up with round, panicked eyes. He removed his hands from her breasts.

Pixal widened the distance between their faces and untangled her body from his. What a mess. Oh, by the First King, what a mess.

"This is all your fault," she said, standing.

"Mine?" Lloyd lifted his shaky hands to his chest. "You're the one who attacked me."

Pixal threw her hands in the air with a sound of frustration. "Ugh! Okay, I'm going to explain this to my father before he says anything. You...you, don't ever speak to me again."

She rushed through the garden and back into the ballroom, leaving Lloyd flustered and alone.

* * *

Lloyd's palms sweated as he stepped from the carriage outside Lord Julien's mansion. This was it. He'd put it off for a week, and he knew it needed to come out in the open.

"Thanks," he said to his driver. "Just wait out here. I'll probably be back in just a few."

The driver offered Lloyd a short nod and settled into his seat, eyes drifting to the rose bushes that ran the length of the courtyard.

Lloyd swallowed, hugging his cloak close for comfort, and began the short trip across the cobblestones to the front gate. He wasn't sure what he'd say. He wasn't even sure what she'd say.

To be honest, he didn't care what she said. He just hoped that she wouldn't kill him.

He looked down at the sheathed knife in his hand- a shiny blade inlaid with red sapphires- and began to wonder whether this had been a bad idea. _I mean, really. I'm bringing her a knife as a gift to appease her wrath? I feel more like a lamb stepping onto the altar._

He needed a gentler gift. One more likely to encourage peace. _Why am I second-guessing myself now? I know that she collects knives, so she'd appreciate this kind of gift... Right?_

He realized that he'd stopped walking beside a bush of red roses. He fingered the knife for a moment, contemplating, then sighed. Yeah. He needed a new plan.

He reached for the largest, most perfect bud on the bush, then retracted his hand with a hiss of pain. A thorn had caught his skin. The abrasion oozed blood, and he sucked at it for a moment, trying to ease the pain.

_You're just killing time, Lloyd,_ his mind warned him. _Hurry, before someone sees you._

So Lloyd unsheathed the knife and held it gingerly to the stem of the beautiful flower. It cut smoothly, and Lloyd was quick about pocketing the knife and continuing his trek down the path as if nothing had happened, rose hidden inside his cloak.

The guards at the front recognized him immediately, and he was ushered into the mansion without question. If they'd seen the cutting, they did not mention it.

"Lady Pixal is in the top room, Your Majesty," a passing servant said once he was inside.

Lloyd nodded his thanks. He was famous for his frequent visits to the Northern Lady.

"She's in one of her moods," the same servant said, smiling timidly. "Just a warning. E-excuse me, Your Majesty." She continued on her way through a door. Lloyd continued walking.

The interior of the mansion was very...modern. Lloyd wasn't sure how else to describe it. Hundreds of paintings decorated the walls between sleek white, blue, and gold tapestries. The candles sat primly in their candlesticks of iron. There weren't many, though, because sconces with electric bulbs made up most of the lighting.

Electricity. Even mentioning it gave Lloyd the chills. Since its rediscovery in textbooks Cyrus Borg had found nearly a decade ago, the only people to embrace it had been here, in the eccentric North.

Lloyd climbed the stairs, passing a few other servants as he went. Down a hall, up another flight of stairs, then into a large, abandoned, and dusty room filled with discarded furniture and miscellaneous junk. The room was bright, lit by three large windows on the south-facing wall. Sunlight poured straight through, burning Lloyd's eyes. through the windows he could see the large garden, surrounded by well-kempt ancestor trees.

Pixal's black silhouette stood at the middle window, hands clasped behind her back. She did not turn to face him.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

Lloyd approached her cautiously. "I...wanted to apologize."

"Saying sorry isn't going to cut it."

"Hey, look," Lloyd said. "It's just as much your fault as it is mine. You attacked me. My hands just-"

"Are you going to apologize or not?" Pixal asked.

"I thought you just said-"

"Apologize."

Lloyd took a deep breath, shaking his head. "I'm sorry." He pulled the knife from his pocket and went to her side. "It was immature of me to tickle you."

Pixal examined the blade from the corner of her eye. She turned up her nose, sniffing contemptuously, then picked it up. She fingered the sheath. "Very nice," she said.

"Thanks," Lloyd said, relieved. "I'm glad. For a while I thought that maybe-"

Before he could finish the thought, the knife was bared at his throat, glimmering in the yellow afternoon light.

"You think that all it takes to woo me is a pretty tool?" she asked, looking into his eyes for the first time. The hard eyes of a beautiful, dazzling, stunning...

Wow. Just looking at her made Lloyd swoon.

"I am a woman," Pixal said. "Tell me you had a plan B."

Lloyd held up the rose. "See? I'm serious about this. Are we good?"

Pixal lowered the knife and took the rose bud from him. Her fingers lingered on his for a moment, and her frown eased.

_I did it,_ Lloyd thought, unable to believe his luck. _I can't believe I did it._

"You're an idiot," Pixal said. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? You took this from my father's bushes."

"What?" Lloyd laughed nervously. "No. What gave you that idea?"

Pixal fingered the wet stem of the rose. "It was cut just a few minutes ago," she said. "And my new knife has streaks of green on it. You also have that fresh scratch on your hand."

Lloyd promptly hid his hands behind his back. "Okay," he said. "Yeah...sorry. Will your father mind?"

Pixal looked up from the rose, smiling. "Are you kidding?" she said. "He'll throw a fit. Thanks."

"You're...welcome?"

"And I forgive you."

"Thanks."

Pixal filled her chest with air, then released it loudly. "Phew. Glad that's off my chest."

"No kidding," Lloyd said. "So did anyone else see us?"

"Besides my father? I don't think so. And I explained the situation to him. He laughed it off. We're safe."

"Good." Lloyd could feel his body relax. For days he had been stressing over this incident. Now, it looked like they could put it behind them.

"Hey, Pix," he said.

"Hmm?" Pixal had set down the knife and was holding the rose to her nostrils.

"I really am sorry."

"I know. It's all right." She gestured to an old couch. "Sit down."

Lloyd did, holding his breath so the dust he'd kicked up wouldn't enter his lungs.

Pixal swung Lloyd's legs up onto the mattress, then sat herself between them. She pulled her golden hair out of its tie and let it cascade down her shoulders and back. "Go on. Get to work."

Lloyd ran his hands through her hair, working out the tangles. "Your hair is so gorgeous," he said. "And soft. Like horse hair."

"Horse hair isn't soft," Pixal said. She sounded hurt. "It's thick and coarse."

"Not if you comb it," Lloyd said. "Then it's like petting cotton."

"You're weird," Pixal said. Lloyd could almost hear her rolling her eyes.

"So are you, Princess," Lloyd said. "That's why we make such a lovely couple."

Pixal elbowed his chest.

"Ow!"

"Quit whining, you deserved it." She swatted his hands out of her hair and leaned back, settling her head on his collarbone.

Lloyd wrapped his arms around her middle in a loose embrace. Whatever Pixal said, Lloyd knew that she loved him. For some reason, she just didn't want to admit it.

This was Lloyd's goal. To, as Pixal herself had put it, 'woo' her. Because he loved her and would not give up until she admitted her love, too. Would it be easy? No. Would he have better luck pursuing other girls? Most likely, but he wanted _her_, and no other woman would do.

_I'll fight for you,_ he thought. _I'll always be there. I'm your knight in shining armor. No man will ever touch you as long as I'm alive._ "I promise."

"What was that?" Pixal asked.

"N-nothing," Lloyd said, realizing that he'd said that last part out loud.

"Nothing," Pixal repeated. "I like that. Let there be nothing, for a while, Prince. I'm busy listening to the birds."

"Of course, Milady." Lloyd made himself as comfortable as he could- this couch had some missing ribs, to be sure- and tightened his grip on her. "Whatever you say."

* * *

**So... Does anyone want a different GreenCircuit one-shot? I'll write a cleaner one if you guys can give me some ideas. :D Or we could call this story complete and be done with it. I'm fine either way.**

**UGH THE ENDING WAS SO CHEESY! I'm sorry! Unalloyed romance just isn't my forte. **

**Thanks for reading! If you can, please drop me a few words below, and have a great week! **

**Oh! Um...so, I ****haven't started writing the next chapter of True Grit yet. I'll get to work on it today maybe (I'm having some trouble starting it out) but just a warning, the next chapter has a good chance of being late by a few days. Sorry. I've been busy with writing this and that chapter of NY (WREN!) and I REALLY just want to work on my Amnesia crossover right now...so...sorry. I'm throwing my schedule to the wind next week. Expect a Confusion for a Companion update. You don't mind, right? **


	3. Return the Favor

**EXCUSE ME? 1000 REVIEWS? Wake me up, somebody. Wow. I hope you guys like this little gift. The first of three coming your way pretty quickly here. You guys are awesome. **

**I have mixed feelings about this one-shot. Some of you will like it, and some of you won't. But don't worry, there will be other one-shots coming later this week and next week, so I'm sure at least one of them will pique your interest!**

**So, not-so-quick explanation for this non-cannon one-shot. (*coughIwasonbreakanddesperateforsomethingtowritecough*) Besai is killed by Overlord. Cole (not a stone warrior) escapes, dragging Sage and a broken Kai behind him. But Overlord follows, alone, and attacks by the lake. Kai refuses to fight, even going as far as to demand that Overlord kills him right then and there. Overlord was happy to oblige and, though Cole fights to the best of his abilities, Sage is a liability and Kai is working against him. Overlord takes Kai and throws him with a tremendous burst of power into the lake. **

**And, fighting his _intense_ fear of the water, Cole dives after him. ****The reason this isn't cannon is...well, I just couldn't bring myself to kill Besai. So naturally, Kai wouldn't want to die, so the emotional power of this scene would be practically zero, so I just went another course entirely, as we saw in chapter 96. But I couldn't let this little drabble go out with at least a little attention. Seriously, it was so hard for me to let this go. D: **

**Without further adieu, here is Return the Favor! (No slash, by the way. Duh. (: )**

* * *

_Return the Favor  
_

* * *

Down, down Cole swam. It hurt. The pressure in his ears, his head. Suffocating him.

The fear was strong. It demanded that he stop swimming; that he let the waters of the lake consume him forever. His arms ached, too. He forced his eyes open, but as he paddled it was too black to see his hands before his face, let alone his dear friend.

_Kai's feeling this, too,_ Cole realized. _He's sinking. His arms are growing heavy, his mind is thick and misty_. _His fear is crippling him. _

Cole's own fear came to a screaming crescendo. _Stop swimming. You're going too deep. You're going to drown. Stop. Stop! STOP!_

Why was he fighting, anyway? Kai was right. This was hopeless. They would never win. So why were they trying?

…It was hopeless.

Cole obeyed his fear, ming working mechanically. The gears slowed. His legs stopped kicking. His arms, like hands on a waning clock, ground to a halt. He could hear water whooshing past his ears: the calls of the dead, begging him to join them.

And then…blissful silence.

This was better, wasn't it? It was over. He didn't have to fight for his life anymore. This last moment of pain…it wasn't the pain of dying, it was the claws of life in his skin, clinging to him, wounding him, dragging out his final seconds as long as possible.

The end was near. He could feel it, he could see the light. Like the candles in his stone dungeon: feeble, but determined to keep on until someone blew out their light; their hope.

He could see the wave, cresting over his dying mind. Powerful, large, white: His final lucid thoughts; his memories.

It crashed into him a moment later, like a tide against the rocks. Phantoms of emotions he once knew, flying about like droplets of water expelled by the force of the collision.

_"You are one of the prophesied Knights, are you not?"_

_"I know of no such prophesy."_

Two opposing forces of nature that refused to bend. Hate, mistrust.

_"So…we're going to fight?"_

_"Isn't that what you wanted? Your move, weakling." _

Fire and earth. Two forces of nature that could not be opposed; nor could they defeat each other.

_"What do you want, weakling?" _

_"I heard a noise and was wondering if you were dead."_

_"You heard a noise and thought I might be…dead?"_

_"Okay! So that wasn't the greatest excuse. I uh… wanted to apologize for hurting you during our match earlier." _

_"I don't need your sympathy,"_

_"Did I say I was sympathetic?" _

Fire and earth. Trust that was slow in coming.

_"Don't mind the tropic weather, eh? Growing up in the South made the narcissistic nobleman immune to the effects of heat? Or was that humility?"_

_"I might be able to give you a witty answer if I knew what 'narcissistic' meant. And Humility? Nope. Never heard of it." _

Fire and earth. They worked together. Elements of nature that were continually in flux, breaking each other down, building each other up.

_"…Kai…so…they haven't killed you yet. I'd get up from the stretcher and slap your face, but…I'm a little occupied." _

_"Heh. Thanks. I'd love to slap you, too. But I've got a sleeping person on me." _

_"Oh, for the love of… Look, Cole, you _don't_ have a baby!" _

Together they kept the world in balance.

_"He's gone, Kai. Even the best doctors fail."_

_"No! I won't stop until his body is hard and cold. Don't you dare leave us, Cole. Come on! Come back." _

Together, nothing was impossible.

_"Stop it! Cole, can you hear yourself? We aren't going to give up! I don't care if we have to hide in the Caves of Despair. You _will_ be safe, all right?_

_"Don't make a promise you can't keep." _

Together they changed lives, for better or for worse.

_"…Why did you save me?" _

This one made Cole pause. It disturbed his flow, brought him back to a state of semi-lucidness in the deep, dark, disturbing lake. Why _had_ Kai saved him? Cole was a nobody; the one who had gotten them into this mess in the first place. He was unworthy of being saved. Anyone in their right mind would have stepped away from the table and let the poison steal his life. Anyone with a speck of sense would hate him for what he had done.

And yet, Kai had moved past that, and…

_"Ah, good idea, Cole." _

The despair, the loneliness. The bottle of wine, the knife.

_"Yeah, you know, that's smart. But wine? _Tsk_. No, we'll need something more substantial."_

The wave of light was passing. Staying awake got harder with each passing second.

_"…Why, Kai?" _

_"Because you're my brother. And brothers mess up. That doesn't make me love you any less. You shouldn't love yourself any less, either." _

Why was he trying to stay awake, anyway? He thought he'd agreed to stop moving; stop thinking. Stop remembering the pain.

_Because… I love him._

The words surprised him. But once the significance of the thought hit him—once he realized the truth, the weight of these words, he felt a spark; that single candle in his dungeon of darkness, that feeble whisper in his mind, springing back to life. _A candle is all it takes to stand out; a candle is all it takes to give sight to those wandering in darkness. _

Determination.

It coursed through his exhausted, oxygen-deprived body, like water like a mouthful of water to a parched throat, filling him with new strength. Not a lot—like a mere mouthful of water for a man dying of thirst. But when he tried hard enough—with enough of that determination—he found that his clockwork _could_ restart. It did, proverbial gears spinning faster and faster with each thought, each motion.

_"But I'm so weak."_

_"You're not weak."_

_"I'm tired of this."_

_"I'm not letting you die."_

_"But I'm _so_ tired!"_

There, surrounded by his worst fear, Cole finally understood. He felt hope—like delicate butterfly wings, brushing against his consciousness. He felt love in its truest form: passion, sacrifice; an all-consuming rage: to think that something as petty as _grief_ thought it could rob Kai of his life! That grief thought it could steal such a wonderful, beautiful soul as Kai from the world forever.

So Cole fought his fears. He fought with a bitter determination that would have _rattled_ the Overlord's immovable countenance. He swam for all he was worth—for all Kai was worth—until his hand caught a fistful of hair.

_Kai's_ hair.

And then—tapping into his final reserve of strength—he let out a scream. Trapped for far too long in his lungs, bubbles flew from his mouth and shot for the surface, leaving Kai and his desperate rescuer behind.

Kai had done so much for his loved ones. He had made so many impossible sacrifices; displayed countless impossible acts of loyalty, bravery, and selflessness.

It was time for someone to return that favor.

* * *

**After this, I was going to do a short scene from Overlord's POV where he watches- dumbfounded- as Cole drags both himself and Kai out of the water and collapses on the beach, unconscious. It was going to be an intense moment- dark, stormy, Sage and Chedva trembling nearby. Overlord would look at his Blade and consider finishing Cole and Kai off then and there. **

**It's difficult to explain what Overlord does next, though. He was afraid. The boy he'd been pushing around for years was actually a man. A man that demanded respect. And Overlord found, to his horror, that he _respected_ Cole. And so, he called a truce and let them go. (Another reason why this didn't work in the story: Overlord wouldn't do that, I think)**

**So...yeah. That's it! Thank you SO MUCH for 1000 reviews, y'all. I hope you enjoy this little gift. Next, I'll do something from Cole's POV. I'll take care of that tomorrow sometime, because it's really late right now. But after that, as the icing on the cake, we'll have a much longer one-shot from Varasach's POV. That'll come your way next week, probably, because I'm only about halfway done with it. And I want Kira to give it a good look before I post it. It's gonna be awesome. You'll see some Kyle and Josi in it, too.**

**Come on. Admit it, you want to see some Kyle. Josi and Varasach are just a little bonus. :3 **

**Okay, I'm outa here. Good night, and thanks to ALL of you for being so loyal. Without your kind words throughout this year and a half, I might have given up on writing long ago. [::] Cake for my besties! Bye! **


	4. Stolen Money

**Hi! I'm really sorry I didn't do this sooner, like I'd promised. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Stolen Money**

* * *

Melancholic. Bittersweet. And, in some strange way, serene.

The Dark Knight sat in a hard wooden chair, fostering a half-empty mug of ale in both hands. Alone, he watched and listened as the musicians played together. Guitarist and cellist, smiling as their fingers danced on the strings. Lost in their own enchanting world, unaware of the audience.

Unaware that their son sat just to their left at a small table, hanging on their every note and phrase.

Lou and Aika. Both hardly into their forties. Lou's hair had gotten grayer since his son left. Aika's sweet, bright face bore deeper wrinkles.

_I did this,_ Cole thought, shivering beneath his heavy cloak. _I've hurt them. They don't deserve what I've put them through these past nine months. _

The song ended, and scattered applause rippled throughout the tavern. Cole shifted uncomfortably and turned his body away so they wouldn't recognize him. He had his hood up, but he did not want to take any chances: his father had a keen eye.

Those keen, emerald green eyes scrutinized the tavern in a single sweep. Lou smiled, though it didn't take an expert to see that something was bothering him.

Not some_thing_. Some_one_.

Cole kept his head low, guilt riddling his chest full of holes. He wanted to stand and speak to them. To apologize, and to tell them that he still loved them. To beg for their forgiveness.

But he didn't. Couldn't. Not yet, anyways.

At last, Lou's attention went back to his guitar, and Cole looked up. Lou fiddled with the B-string, looked to his wife, and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and positioned her bow perpendicular to the cello's strings. Lou tapped his foot on the floor once. Twice. On the third beat, he and Aika began loud and hard on a traditional ballad.

Cole watched his father's fingers flit on the frets, so fast that most would have a hard time following. But Cole had no trouble: not to brag, but his own fingers were just as fast- if not faster- than his father's. The guitar was not one of Cole's favorite instruments, but Lou had spent hard hours making Cole learn. Practice, practice, practice, until his fingertips were raw and bleeding.

Lou had been a harsh teacher. But Cole loved him still: he knew everything he had ever been taught was intended to help him later on in life.

_Your mother and I won't be around forever,_ Lou had told him once, many winters ago. _You must learn, son. So that when your mother and I leave, you will have a part of us with you._

Ever the cynic, young Cole had retorted, _And so I can, you know, make money for food and stuff._

Chuckling, Lou had patted Cole's head. _Minor details,_ he said. _Mark my words, Cole. Your talent is one of a kind. Keep at it, and one day you'll be playing for the King. And he pays in gold, not copper._ He slapped a leaflet of staff paper with his palm. _Now get back to it. I want these exercises memorized before lunch. Yes sir?_

Cole sighed deeply, swirling his ale in his mug. He had no appetite. Not after what he'd done earlier that day.

_I had to,_ he repeated the mantra, as he did every time these thoughts threatened to consume him. _I had no choice. I just have to do what I'm told until my year is up._ He glanced up, watching his mother sway with the cello's lively rhythm. _And then I can come home._ Excitement buzzed in his chest. He couldn't wait for them to meet Hagar and Varasach. They would be coming with him, of course. He would make sure of it. He couldn't leave them on the Dark Island. They were as much his family as Lou and Aika. He loved them too dearly to leave them behind.

_I wonder if Father will accept them,_ he thought. _Vara seems like she'd have a good ear for music. I'll bet she'd love the piano. And maybe Sage could sing._

Then a more uneasy thought: _I wonder…will Father accept _me_? _It was the question that had plagued him every day for the past nine months. _I was stupid, and I hurt them deeply. Now, I can't even talk to them. They think I'm dead. Or worse, that I've abandoned them._

Finally, he took a swig of his drink. Golden like honey, bitter like poison. Its scent burned his nostrils.

_I wish I could erase the past,_ Cole thought as Lou and Aika's song came to a close. They accepted more applause, then began putting their instruments away in old, worn travel cases. Some people stood and dropped coins- most copper, a few silver- into their hands. Thanked them for sharing their talent. Lou and Aika accepted the praise with smiles, though Cole could see the sadness in his mother's expression. The vacant, forlorn tremble in his father's eyes.

_Are they angry at me? _Cole wondered. _Or are they sad? Do they want me back, or are they happy that their wayward son is finally gone from their lives?_

It was a question he'd have answered when Overlord released him from his service. _Just three more months. Then I can come home._ He sighed. _I wish Overlord would allow me to speak with them. Just once…_

At last the crowd dispersed. Cole stood, leaving his drink at the table. He drew two coppers from his pocket and left them at the table to pay for his drink. Then he fished out a small purse. He weighed it in his hands, torn by indecision and shame.

Fifteen gold coins, taken from the pockets of his two latest victims: a young couple suspected of working with Cyrus Borg. They were masquerading as servants in the Julien keep, spying on the Northern Lord. Overlord had recently become very interested in Cyrus and wanted a few prisoners to interrogate. Why? It was none of Cole's business. He was just the middleman. Or at least, that's what he told himself to ease his conscience.

Taking a deep breath, heart pounding wildly in his chest, Cole approached his parents. _My hood is up. They won't recognize me._ Not that it mattered. After what he was about to do, they would at least have a small suspicion of his identity._ I'm not speaking to them, though. So Overlord can't punish me, even if he does find out. _

Lou and Aika noticed him, a small stranger hidden beneath a bleak gray cloak, and they smiled that halfhearted smile in his direction.

Not saying a word, Cole took his mother's hands in his. He held them for a moment. Small, warm, and soft. Hands that had held his own as she taught him the cello so, so many winters ago. Hands that had loved and cared for him for all of his life.

Overcome by emotion, he swallowed and quickly dropped the substantial sack of gold coins into her hands. Aika, surprised by this stranger's behavior, gripped the bag tight to keep it from slipping. Doubtless she expected it to be filled with smaller coins.

She would be surprised when she opened it. Fifteen gold coins would feed and house them comfortably for several months. Perhaps, if they were careful- which he knew they were- then the money would last until Cole returned.

Cole ran away before they could thank him.

_Stolen coins,_ he thought bitterly as he opened the tavern door and ran into the dark street. _From a couple of spies who will likely be dead soon, thanks to me. That's really the best that I could do?_

He fled the town of Sheshin as fast as he could, the blackness of the sky above him reflecting the dark pit of loneliness in his soul.

* * *

**Well then! Even when I'm celebrating 1000 reviews, I can't manage to write happy! :P **

**There'll be one more after this, probably coming your way next Saturday. It's my favorite. It'll be almost 9,000 words long, and it will have some actual plot stuff in it: tying up some loose ends in True Grit, looking behind the scenes, so to speak...it's great. I've had so much fun writing it. I really hope you guys will enjoy it. **

**Please leave a review, and have a great rest of your weekend! God bless! :D**


	5. Little Miracle

**Hi! I apologize for the longness of this one-shot. But I promise, it's totally worth the length. **

**However, if you do end up getting bored, feel free to skip to the final three scenes. That's the most important part, and it'll play heavily into True Grit in the future. **

**I tried to keep confusion down with the dates. Please tell me if you still find them confusing. Let me explain a bit: The current year is 632- that's the year that True Grit started in. Una, Vori, etc are the names of the lunar months. Make sense? *Claps hands together* Excellent. **

**I hope you all enjoy this final one-shot to celebrate 1,000 reviews! Without further adieu... **

* * *

_Little Miracle_

* * *

_Eleven Months Ago  
12, Una, year 632_

* * *

Varasach sat in the grass sorting large baskets of fruit. Her charges, Selya and Kein, tumbled in the grass nearby, giggling and growling as they rolled head over foot. Eventually Kein came out on top, his four baby teeth shining with his grin. Selya cried out, struggling to get out from under him.

"_Na_, Kein," Varasach said. "Leave her alone."

Begrudgingly, Kein rolled off of her.

Selya stood, lower lip protruding, and toddled onto Varasach's lap. She cried softly into Varasach's shirt.

Varasach rubbed the little girl's back and gave Kein a stern glare. The little boy ignored her and began throwing dirt at the trees.

_Boys,_ Varasach thought with an internal sigh, setting aside her work. _Even before the Transformation, they are troublesome._

She sat still for several minutes rubbing Selya's back. The toddler slowly calmed down. "_A'andu_," she mumbled, yawning, rubbing her brown eyes.

"Sleep?" Varasach asked. "Selya, you just had dinner. How could you be tired already?"

"_A'andu_," Selya insisted. Another yawn.

Varasach found herself yawning too. "I still have work to do," she said at last. "After I'm done sorting this fruit, we can go to bed. Okay?"

"_Chnit_!" Selya objected. She began to cry again, fat tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

_Oh, Selya…_ Varasach hugged the girl, shaking her head. What was she to do? She couldn't leave her work unfinished- not if she wanted to keep her head- but she couldn't let Selya cry for hours on end until the fruit was sorted, either.

The answer to her dilemma came a moment later when a brightly colored piece of string waved in Varasach's face. At first she was terrified, wondering what kind of menace was about to hurt her or the children. A stone warrior?

" 'Ey, Vara," came a voice above her.

Varasach calmed her racing heart and looked up. _How did he get up there without me hearing him?_

Cole smiled down at her from the branches of the avocado tree. Legs wrapped around the trunk, one hand on a branch by his head. Between his fingers he dangled a long piece of orange string that almost touched the ground.

"You like it?" he asked in the Ninjagian tongue. "I found it on the floor of an inn in the North. Not sure who dropped it. But I figured the kids would have fun with it." He shook the string, and it danced, tickling Selya's ear.

"_Rew_!" Kein exclaimed. He took a running leap, landing hard on Varasach's lap. She gasped, and Selya cried out. Kein laughed as he jerked the string from Cole's fingers.

"Whoops…" Cole jumped from the branches and landed on his feet. He scooped Kein from Varasach's lap and tickled him until he released the string. "You okay, Vara? I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

Varasach stood, Selya sniffling in her arms. "Yes," she said in his language.

"Wonderful." Cole dropped Kein and picked up the string. He tickled Selya's ear with its tail. Kein clawed at Cole's trousers, vying for attention. He was ignored.

"Come on," Cole coaxed Selya in the Dark Tongue. His eyes sparkled as brightly as his smile. "Hey, why are you hiding in Vara's shirt? Hmm? Let me see your smile."

Selya uncovered one hazel eye and peeked at the string.

"Her left eye is a little red," Cole observed, reverting again to his native tongue. He moved his hand so the string touched Selya's nose. "Is she sick?"

Varasach frowned and examined Selya's tiny face. Yes, her one eye looked a little swollen and pink. "Mmm. Maybe she ees."

"Poor girl. That's probably why she's so tired." Cole pocketed the string and took Selya in his arms. Kein screamed, frustrated, and Varasach picked him up.

"Shouldn't you be worried more?" she asked.

Cole kissed Selya's forehead, then looked to Varasach. "About what?"

"Cole," Varasach hissed. "Hagar told me about yesturday. About that woman you were supposed to…" She let her words taper off, and she glanced over her shoulder nervously.

Cole's face darkened momentarily. Then he shrugged, grinning once again. "I'm not worried. Too much. I mean, he hasn't punished me yet. He probably didn't find out."

"But…you were supposed to-"

"I know what I was supposed to do," Cole snapped. "What's Overlord gonna do to me if he finds out? Something terrible. But at least that terrible thing will be done to _me_ instead of someone innocent."

He took a deep breath. "Besides. I got the information Overlord wanted. Isn't that what matters?"

Varasach found her vision blurring, and she closed her eyes. According to Sage's information, Cole had captured a couple from Ninjago on his last raid. Overlord wanted them interrogated, but they weren't cooperating. In the middle of a session yesterday, Overlord had been called away to deal with some emergency. Frustrated, he told Cole to assault the woman, hoping that she or her husband would finally talk.

But after Overlord left, Cole reasoned with the couple, begging for them to talk so he wouldn't have to use the force Overlord wanted. Eventually they told him everything. Overlord was never informed about Cole's rebellion.

"Hey," Cole murmured softly, drawing Varasach into a comforting embrace. "Don't be that way. Everything's fine. I got what Overlord wanted."

_But you did it wrong!_ Varasach wanted to scream. _Overlord hates when people don't obey him._

"He will find out," she whispered into his shoulder, tears streaming form her eyes. "What eef he hurts us? Und Hagar?"

Cole stiffened slightly. "He won't," he said. "I won't let him hurt you, or Sage. If anyone gets hurt, it'll be me. And I'm okay with that."

"How?" Varasach pulled away, staring him in the eyes. "How are you not scared?"

"I _am_ scared." Cole smoothed her hair. "But I'm choosing to ignore it. Nothing will happen. Okay?" When Varasach looked away, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and made her look at him again. "Okay?"

Varasach nodded. "Okay."

"Good." Cole planted a kiss on Varasach, Selya, and Kein's foreheads. Kein pushed him away indignantly, but the girls took the token with troubled smiles.

"Have you seen Sage?" Cole asked at last. "She's usually with you in the evening."

Varasach's heart skipped a beat in her chest. She had forgotten about that morning…

Cole frowned. "Why the hesitation?"

"No…_heh-see-tay-shun_," Varasach said, blundering through the big word. "I was just…hafting to remembur."

"Remember what?"

"She…she visited the _e'hemonz_," Varasach said. "That ees the last that I seen her."

Cole's eyebrows went up, and he nearly dropped Selya. "_E'hemonz_…the infirmary? What happened?"

"She ees fine," Varasach assured him. "She just had to see the midwife-"

"_Midwife_?" Cole paled. Shakily, he set Selya in the grass. "I've gotta go."

"Cole!" Varasach called after him as he disappeared into the trees, toward the compound. _I thought he would help me finish sorting the fruit,_ she thought disappointedly.

"Cole!" Kein mimicked his caretaker with a deep frown.

Varasach sighed and set Kein in the grass, then spoke in the Dark Tongue. "We will see Cole in a little while." She patted Selya's head, noting that the little girl had Cole's orange string in her hands. She seemed happy now, if not a little drowsy, as she sat against one of Varasach's large fruit baskets.

"Cole!" Kein demanded.

"Please," Varasach said, "just give me a couple hours, and I'll have this work finished. It would go faster if you helped me, though."

After a moment of glaring at the ground, Kein sat himself in the grass and helped Varasach work.

* * *

When Varasach entered the infirmary late that night, she was not surprised to find Hagar sitting in a chair, waiting. Still waiting.

"You are pregnant?" Varasach asked, though she knew the answer. If Hagar was still sitting here, twelve hours after entering the infirmary, she was probably pregnant.

To confirm this, Hagar nodded. She looked away, face pale, hands twitching on her lap.

"Is something wrong?" Varasach asked. This was not the response she'd expected. "Why hasn't your class been altered already?"

Hagar shrugged. "I… Overlord came. But he did not bring my papers."

Women of differing classes had different jobs: the fertile women took care of the gardens, farms, and fishing. Girls under twelve and infertile women, such as Varasach- and Hagar, until today- raised the weaned children and worked in the orchards.

Today, Hagar had become a part of the third of these classes. She was with child, and so she was to work in the storehouses, doing easier tasks that involved more bookkeeping and organizing than physical labor.

But before she could move on to her new job, she needed her papers changed by Overlord- or Nephilim, if he was too busy- which would indicate that she was ready for eventual work in the brothel, once her child was weaned.

By the looks of things, neither superior had arrived.

Hagar took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "Overlord took Cole," she whispered.

The breath was stolen from Varasach's lungs. "What?"

Hagar seemed as though she'd been holding these pent-up feelings for many hours. And once she started to release them, there was no stopping the flow. She choked on a sob. "Cole came hours ago. And…he was so happy. We have a child at last. B-But…" She lowered her head into her hands and cried softly. "…Overlord discovered what Cole did yesterday. And he took him."

Varasach went to her knees and touched Hagar's shoulder. "Hagar-" she began.

"He took Cole!" Hagar cut her off, overcome by her distress. "He is being punished. And…and now, there is no way Overlord would agree to change my papers like Cole wanted."

_Like Cole wanted._

Hagar's words agitated Varasach's stomach like spoiled food.

Cole had requested a few weeks ago that Overlord have Varasach and Hagar's papers altered so they would become his property. That way, once his year of service was up, they could go home with him.

_Now, Overlord is angry, and he will probably deny the request. _Varasach found herself trembling. She had not realized until this moment how desperately she wanted to be freed with Cole._ It might never happen now. And Cole is being punished._

"I put Kein and Selya to bed already," Varasach said, voice cracking. "I know it's almost curfew, but why don't we go and find Cole? You said he was taken hours ago. So Overlord has likely finished whatever punishment he gave him."

Hagar clenched her fists. "I must stay," she said brokenly. "You know the rules. I cannot leave until my papers have changed."

Varasach had guessed as much already. She stood shakily and let her hands fall loose at her sides. "I'll go, then. And I will come back as quickly as I can. Okay?"

Hagar nodded, then lowered her head again, hugging her belly. _A belly which now holds a child,_ Varasach realized numbly. She found it difficult to grasp the concept: she and Hagar had both resigned themselves to childless lives many years ago. To ever think otherwise was foolish and without purpose.

Not anymore, though.

"Don't worry," Varasach said, turning for the door, "I'll take care of him."

A pause. Hagar sniffled and drew her legs under the chair. "_Herengla'asi_," she whispered the soft apology at last. "Thank you. Go."

* * *

It did not take long to find Cole. He was alone and on the floor, sitting with legs drawn close to his chin against the stone wall of the hallway. A flickering torch above his head bathed the hall in light that did nothing to dispel the gloom of the underground fortress.

"Cole!" Varasach exclaimed softly, voice echoing eerily in the long chamber. She dropped to the floor beside him and touched his face. "Are you all right?" she asked in the Dark Tongue, too stressed to think of switching for him.

Cole blinked once, eyes unfocused and dry. He breathed in- a fast, short gasp through slightly parted lips- and pulled his face away.

Varasach persisted. "What did Overlord do to you? Why are you just sitting in the hall? Hagar is worried about you…" She noticed a roll of paper in Cole's hand, and she examined his face again. Dark eyebrows creased. Grief written on every orifice. So different than how she'd seen him just a few hours ago.

"What is that?" she asked.

Cole finally pulled himself from his trance, blinking a few times rapidly. He looked down at his hand, confused, as though he didn't remember how the papers got to be there. Finally, he gave them to Varasach. "They're yours," he said. "And Sage's."

_Our papers._ Varasach held her breath as she unrolled the two sheets and read them carefully. They were simple things: name, date of birth, eye, hair, and skin description, and their class. Varasach was in the second class, which meant that she was infertile.

_Wait…_ Varasach read the last part again. There was an extra line of text there, written in fresh ink.

_No class._

Varasach's mouth opened and closed uselessly, unable to find the words to express her thoughts.

She read Hagar's paper and found the same thing. _No class._

"You're mine," Cole said. "I can take you home with me. Next year."

Tears dripped down Varasach's cheeks. Tears of joy. Of gratitude. _Wait until Hagar sees her paper. We can go home with him…_ Then she stopped. "_Next_ year?" she asked. "I…thought you could go home in three months."

Cole shook his head, eyes still glazed. "That's my punishment," he said. "He added another year to my contract. And…" He gestured to the door behind him. "…they're…in there."

"They?" Varasach frowned. "Who?"

Cole murmured under his breath.

"What?"

"My parents," Cole repeated, a little louder. "He…" His voice wavered. He swallowed. "Overlord took my parents. They're in there. Sedated, for now."

Varasach had little recollection of her own parents: they had been killed when she was three, on the night that Overlord took the island. What she did remember was fragmented. Shiny silver buttons on her father's uniform. The way the house smelled when her mother baked bread.

Cole didn't speak of his parents much. But when he did, it was with a twinkle in his eye. He loved them dearly.

And now they were here, in Overlord's dark underground prison. And when they awoke, they would be punished for a crime they had not committed.

"How did they get here?" Varasach asked. "You are the one who sails to Ninjago and takes the prisoners. How did Overlord get them?"

"I…think he used Sunseeker," Cole answered. "The teleportation device I told you about."

A single tear rolled down Cole's cheek. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have disobeyed. Now he's going to kill them. Because I'm a coward, they're going to-"

Varasach stopped his words with a hand on his cheek. He leaned in to her touch, more tears following the first.

"You are not a coward," Varasach said. "What you did…it was brave. Stupid, but brave. And I admire you for it."

Cole spent a long moment trying to compose himself. Deep breaths, in and out. "I can't…" he began, then faltered. "I…can't." Then again, a weak whisper: "I can't."

Varasach wiped away his tears with her thumb, but they only returned with more force.

What was she to do? Comfort him? Tell him that everything would be okay? That there was nothing to worry about?

If there was anything she'd learned from her nine months of friendship with Cole, it was that he wanted to be the supporter. It made him feel stronger, having someone lean on him- metaphorically or literally. So she scooted closer and set her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to himself. A shred of healing comfort for his wounded heart.

* * *

_Ten Months Later  
28, Ia, year 632_

* * *

Varasach and Cole made their way down the hall in Cyrus' keep, toward Jay's room in the hospital.

"I'm glad you're back," Varasach said, her hand tightly clasped in Cole's.

Cole squeezed her hand. "Yeah," he agreed, mind disengaged. His eyes- dim and distant- took in the numbers beside each door. Jay's number, Varasach remembered, was 1-4-2. Directly across from Cole's room, which read 1-4-1. Even numbers on one side, odds on another.

"Why do I need to see Jay right now?" Cole asked tiredly. "Can't it wait until tomorrow? My chest hurts. I need to take these bandages off."

"Yes," Varasach said. "We must see Jay first."

"Why?" Cole demanded, frowning at her.

Varasach paused, taken off guard by his tone. _Cole has changed,_ she thought. _When his mother died, his eyes lost their sparkle. When he lost his father, he became quieter. Now Hagar has died, and…_ She looked at Cole, who was oblivious to her train of thought. _…and he has lost his kindness._

"Because Jay has a gift for you," Varasach answered him. Her heart accelerated as she thought of Chedva, whom Jay had brought back from the Dark Island a few days earlier. _I can't wait to see Cole's face. He will be so happy. Maybe… _Her skin warmed at the thought. _…maybe he will smile again. I miss his smile._

"This is it," Cole sighed, stopping before door 1-4-2. He released her hand. "Why don't you wait out here for a minute, Vara?"

"What?" Varasach panicked. "Why?"

Cole narrowed his eyes at her, no doubt wondering why she had become so flustered. "I don't know what Jay wants," he said. "He may want some privacy. Having you in there could make it awkward for him, if he wanted to discuss something serious."

_That's not fair!_ Varasach thought. _I want to be with you when you see Chedva. I want to see your smile!_

"I…I'm sure it will be all right," she said. "Please, let me be with you."

Cole laid a hand on her arm. "I'll only be a minute, okay? Just wait out here."

Reluctantly, Varasach nodded. She had been defeated. There was no way she could say more without giving the surprise away- and Jay had insisted that it be a surprise.

Cole pounded his knuckles on the door, startling Varasach. He released her arm and entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

Varasach stared after him for a moment, lips parted. Then she turned, finding herself alone in the hall, lit dimly by yellow electric lights. Aside from a light murmur from inside Jay's room, there was silence. Everywhere, stifling silence.

_It's all right,_ she thought, shivering. She pressed her back to the wall between doors 1-4-2 and 1-4-4, hugging herself. _Cole will return in a minute, like he promised. And I will see his smile._ The thought made her warm again, and she found herself smiling.

Cole's smile, which crinkled the skin around his eyes and revealed a set of white teeth between dimpled cheeks. A bright, beautiful, genuine smile. Like the one he'd worn as he presented Selya with the orange string.

She allowed herself to dwell on those thoughts. With each passing minute, her impatience and desire grew. What was Cole doing in there? Why hadn't he come out with Chedva yet?

The door flew open suddenly, and Cole rushed out, tears streaming down his cheeks, Chedva in his arms. Without pausing- or even looking Varasach's way- he crossed the hall, entered room 1-4-3, and shut the door.

Varasach exclaimed softly and ran to the door. The latch would not lift. Cole had locked it? _Why, Cole? You promised…_ She raised her hand to knock on the door, but lowered it again, clenched tightly. Cole knew she was out here. And if he'd locked the door, that meant that he did not want her.

_He…just needs a minute,_ she told herself._ He hates others seeing him cry. So he will open the door when he's ready._ The thought gave her little comfort. Why, after all Varasach and Cole had been through, would he still not trust her to see his tears? It's not like this was the first time she'd seen him cry…

Varasach waited by the door, listening despairingly to Cole's stifled cries inside. _Just let me in, Cole,_ she thought. _Please. I thought we were family. Can't you let me in?_

The minutes dragged on. Eventually, weighed down by despondency and loneliness, Varasach sank to the floor. She sat on her knees and overlapped her hands on her thighs. A habit gained through years of slavery: sitting quietly and respectfully on her knees indicated that she was waiting for instructions.

The floor was warm- it seemed that the entire compound was heated somehow from underneath. Varasach had never thought to ask how that worked, but now she was curious. _Is there a large fire underneath the floor? Or is it electric somehow, like these lights? Perhaps this place is alive, and we are all inside its belly…_ But that was ridiculous.

She heard a noise and looked up.

_Speaking of Cyrus…_

Cyrus wheeled his chair down the hall toward her, followed by a familiar young man. _Where have I seen him before? _Varasach wondered. The man was tall, with honey-blond hair and eyes. He walked slightly bent, as though he were fighting stomach cramps. If he was in pain, though, his eyes did not show it. His face seemed radiant as he spoke in low tones with Cyrus. Neither seemed to have noticed Varasach yet; they had not come for her, apparently.

The tall man chuckled, punching Cyrus' shoulder playfully. "I'm fine," he said. They were close enough now for Varasach to hear their conversation. "Honest, Sir. A little tired. I think I'll catch a rest before I visit the plant."

"Absolutely not," Cyrus said, not finding this as funny as his companion. He stopped before Jay's door and grasped the man's wrist. "Listen to me. You have to get some help. Now."

"But Sir-"

"No, Kyle." Cyrus pulled a device from his pocket. "I'm getting your sister. She'll talk some sense into you."

_Kyle,_ Varasach thought. _That's right. We met him on the road._

"Don't, please," Kyle groaned. "If she finds out, I'll never live it down. I want to do this quietly. In the morning."

There was a beep, and Cyrus slipped the device back into his pocket. "Too late. She's coming."

"Sir…" Kyle sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. He winced and lowered them again.

"Don't even." Cyrus set a hand on the latch to door 1-4-2. "I'm going to check on Jay, and then catch a quick nap. _You're_ going to get repairs. Good night."

"Yeah…" Kyle set his back to the wall, rolling his eyes. "Night."

Cyrus entered the room and shut the door.

Kyle sank to the floor with a grimace, one hand over his stomach. When he recovered, he noticed Varasach. His smile returned. "I didn't see you there," he said. "The halls are pretty dark after curfew, eh?"

Not sure what else to do, Varasach nodded. "You are hurt," she observed quietly.

"Heh. It's that obvious?" Kyle unwrapped a length of striped cloth from his neck- a _scarf_, Varasach thought they were called- and set it on his lap. "Don't worry yourself, Miss. I'll survive. It's not fatal. Just…painful. Like a stubbed toe." He rested his head against the wall. "What's your name, Miss?"

"Varasach."

"Varasach…" Kyle repeated. To her surprise, he pronounced the name perfectly. Very few people got the guttural ch sound right, replacing it instead with a hard k.

"Y…yes." Varasach nodded. "And you are Kyle?"

"Yep," Kyle replied, popping the p. "Mind if I call you Vara? Your name is beautiful, but I prefer to keep things simple."

"Most people call me Vara anyways…"

"Is that a yes?"

"Um…yes."

"Excellent." Kyle clapped his hands together, an explosive sound that caused Varasach to flinch. "So. What are you doing out here, Vara?"

Varasach opened her mouth to answer, then paused. What _was_ she doing out here? "Waiting," she answered at last. "Waiting for Cole to open the door."

The smile fled Kyle's face. "Did he lock you out?"

"Well…um, yes."

"That room has two beds, I think," Kyle noted, nodding at Cole's door. "Do you share a room with him?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." Kyle scratched his chin. "Do you think Cole will open the door any time soon?"

"Yes." Varasach caught herself. "I…don't know." She wanted to believe Cole would remember her and open his door. But she was beginning to doubt.

Kyle's stare was uncomfortable. Varasach flushed, looking away. _Why is he looking at me?_

She was saved from further discomfort by pounding footsteps down the hall to her left. Kyle turned toward the sound, sighing. "Here she comes. Brace yourself."

Before Varasach could ask what he meant, a woman skidded to a stop before Kyle and dropped to her knees.

"Kyle!" she gasped, a hand on his shoulder, pinning him to the wall. "_Please_ tell me that was a mistype. Cyrus wasn't serious."

"Josi," Kyle said, smiling through a grimace. "Good evening. What were you up to before Cyrus so rudely interrupted you with that call?"

"A _sword_?" Josi asked, ignoring him. She tried to open Kyle's shirt. "You got stabbed with a sword?"

"I did, as a matter of fact. During my fight with Kozu." Kyle gently smacked her hand away. "Relax. It didn't hit anything critical. I've lived with it for two days now. It isn't gonna kill me."

"Men," Josi huffed. "You're all the same, you know that?"

"Incredibly strong and handsome?"

"And stupid!" Josi retorted.

They glared at each other soundlessly for several tense seconds.

Varasach felt her heartbeat, thumping loudly in her chest. Of all the things she'd expected of Kyle's sister, this buzzing ball of energy named Josi was not one of them.

Kyle's lip twitched, and he hardened his jaw. Josi began to giggle. Then Kyle gave in and let a smile creep onto his face. He opened his arms, and he and Josi embraced warmly.

"I missed you," he said.

"Me too," said Josi, still giggling. "Why is Cyrus sending you away so often all of a sudden?"

"The world may never know." Kyle was the first to pull away. He winked at Varasach. "Hey. We've got a roommate tonight. Her name's Varasach."

When Josi turned to face Varasach, the girl was struck by how similar they were. The only difference was in her jawbone, which was a little more rounded and feminine. And her hair was shorter, framing her face.

Josi smiled broadly. "Varasach," she said, also pronouncing the name with remarkable accuracy. She stood and offered a hand to the girl. "I'm Josi."

Varasach took the hand and stood. "Hello," she said meekly. The events of the past few minutes were overwhelming.

"She got locked out of her room," Kyle said. "So she's gonna stay with us tonight."

"Well," Josi said. "Thanks for the heads up. Because I totally did _not_ have plans for Kelyr to take that spare bed tonight."

"Oooh." With some effort Kyle stood, a hand on his belly. "Sorry. I didn't think about that."

"Don't be," Josi said. "I was kidding. The bed's free." She turned back to Varasach and explained. "Kelyr is one of the little boys I care for on occasion while his mother takes the night shift in the kitchen. He's with his mother tonight, though, so the bed isn't being used." She poked Varasach's forehead. "Fortunately for you. I'd hate for you to have to sit out here all night."

"Well…" Varasach glanced at the door behind her. "I don't think Cole will leave me out here all night. He will open the door soon."

"Whatever you say." Josi flipped a notebook and pencil from her pocket. "What language does Cole speak?"

"Um…both? But he does yours better."

"Perfect." Josi scrawled a quick note in the Ninjagian tongue and ripped it from her pad. She slid it under the door. "Now he'll know where you've gone. Come on." Before Varasach could object, Josi grabbed her hand and led her down the hall. "Kyle, come on. You're going to the plant for repairs."

"But-"

Josi grabbed his shirt and pulled him along, too. "No, Kyle. Why would you even _want_ to wait until tomorrow?"

"Because it's Lorya's shift right now," Kyle whined. "You know how rough she is with our wires."

Josi paused. "How is the pain from your stab wound less significant than your fear of Lorya?"

"I don't know…"

Josi sighed. "Tomorrow, then," she said, pulling them along with renewed fervor. "You'll go to the plant tomorrow. For now, you're going straight to bed. And you're not getting up until the shift change."

"Thank you," Kyle said. Then to Varasach: "What did I tell you? Brace yourself." Another wink. "My sister's a handful."

"That's right," Josi said, eyes bright with a frightening light. Her teeth seemed dangerously sharp as she smiled. "I'm a handful."

* * *

_Two Days Later  
2, Vori, year 632_

* * *

"This can't be right…" Josi frowned as she flipped the page of her book, then squinted at the cup on the countertop. "The sugar got all clumpy."

"I think you were supposed to melt the sugar first," Kyle said, reading over her shoulder. "Yeah. It says so right there, fourth paragraph."

"…Oh." Josi shut the book, shrugging. "We'll survive. It's not that big a deal. Right, Vara?"

Kyle and Josi had decided to make a special tea for Cyrus since he hadn't slept in over a day. _He's so busy,_ Kyle had said. _We should bring him a gift. Y'know, to encourage him. He's been a little down lately._

And so here they were- the Nindroid twins and Varasach- in the monstrous kitchens, trying to figure out how to make a special tea.

Varasach was lost. She couldn't read in the Ninjagian tongue yet- the letters looked like a daunting tangle of string and sticks- and so she had sat on the sidelines the past twenty minutes, watching as Kyle and Josi argued about how to interpret the book's instructions.

"Now we add the cream, I guess," Josi said, approaching the large keg that Kyle had retrieved from the ice box.

"Nope," Kyle declared, tapping a small pan with his finger. "We're supposed to warm it up first."

"What? _Warm_ milk? That's gross."

"Well, if you don't heat the cream, the tea will get cold."

Josi pondered this. "Fine," she grumbled. "Cat-face."

"Love you too, Sister." Kyle twisted a spile on the keg. Cream drizzled onto the floor, and he quickly twisted it the other direction. "Umm…I guess I should have the pan under the spile when I open it."

"Yeah. Maybe." Josi tossed him the pan. He caught it without looking and filled it with cream. Setting it on the stovetop, he twisted a knob, lighting a flame underneath. Varasach watched curiously as the flames danced, blue. She'd never seen blue fire before. _How does it work?_ she wondered, coming closer to examine it. _Is it like a lantern, with oil underneath?_

"Careful," Kyle said, holding out a hand to stop her. "Blue fire is a lot hotter than orange. You could burn your skin if you get too close."

_Hotter_. Varasach found herself even more excited. _Hotter means more energy. More energy would need more fuel. That can't come from oil like on the Dark Island, surely._

"Should the flames be that big?" Josi asked. "What if the milk scorches?"

"It's a liquid," Kyle said. "Liquids don't burn."

"The fuel we use for the stove is liquid, and it burns quite nicely," Josi argued.

Kyle could not argue with that. "Fine," he said. "I'll turn it down. But it'll take longer to warm up."

"I think we can live with that," Josi said. "It's not like we're in any rush. Neither of us need to work until after dinner. Hey, what are you doing today, anyways?"

Kyle's face brightened. "I'm going aboveground," he said. "Cyrus says he has enough of the antidote ready now, and I can work on healing the nearby villages."

Josi uncrossed her arms, mouth open wide. "Shut up," she said.

"No, I'm serious," Kyle said proudly. "It'll be so exciting. Going out in the dead of night, dodging Guards, secretly healing people…"

Josi sighed heavily. "I always knew you were his favorite. Lucky. I'm gonna be stuck in the pediatric ward all night."

"I thought you loved working with kids," Kyle said.

"I do," Josi admitted. "Children are so sweet. But I wish I could have some adventure. Like you." She gestured to him with a sweep of her hand. "I mean, you got picked as a bodyguard-slash-spy to protect Cole and Kai as they returned from the South. You got to kill Kozu. Now you get to be the public hero and heal a bunch of people. And I'm…stuck underground changing diapers."

"Everyone has their jobs," Kyle said. "And everyone is important. Like Cyrus says, we're all small pieces in a bigger machine." He turned off the burner and stirred the milk with a spoon. "If it will make you feel any better, though, I will talk to Cyrus about making a second squad so you can work outside too. In the meantime…" He turned to Varasach and winked. "I forgot to mention. Cyrus said you're coming with me, Vara."

Varasach's heart leaped. With panic or excitement she could not tell. "Where?" she asked.

"Aboveground," Kyle answered. "Cyrus noticed that you've been a little lonely these past couple days since Cole returned. So he made you my partner. You'll be helping me heal people of this plague."

_The plague._ Varasach's stomach felt queasy just remembering the sickness. _It's over now,_ she told herself. _You're healed. You can't get it again._

"Isn't that great?" Kyle asked, drawing Varasach from her thoughts. "Cyrus is so nice. I mean, he's super busy and never takes care of himself, but he's always paying attention to others and noticing _their_ needs. You've been lonely, and he fixed it- Ow!"

Josi elbowed his side. "Cyrus didn't _fix_ anything, Vara. He's offering a temporary solution until Cole snaps out of this phase and starts paying attention to you again."

Thinking of Cole made Varasach want to cry. She looked away, uncertain of how she should feel about Kyle's invitation. She only saw Cole during meals now- she'd taken to sleeping in the Nindroid wing with Josi and Kyle because being around Cole was…awkward. He hardly payed her any mind even during meals, stuck in his own little world with Chedva. Josi and Kyle were much easier to get along with. She felt comfortable with them, though she knew they could never replace Cole. He was family. These two…they could only be friends.

Kyle, sensing something was off, let his smile fade. "Is something wrong?" he asked. "I'm sorry. I thought you would be happy about working with me."

"No," Varasach said quickly. "No, no. Thank you. Yes, I am happy. I just…" She pursed her lips. How could she express her feelings without sounding like she was complaining?

"Cole," Josi guessed, hitting the nail on the head. "Don't worry, Vara. We get it. And we aren't trying to replace him." She touched Varasach's chin, lifting it. "Keep your head up. Cole will come back, I'm sure. He'd be stupid not to. In the meantime…" She moved her hand to Varasach's shoulder and pushed her toward Kyle. "Have fun. Don't run into any Guards. And _you_…" She poked Kyle's chest. "Don't get carried away."

"Wh-what?" Kyle asked, eyebrows shooting up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Josi placed a second finger on his chest and walked them up to his collarbone. "Exciting secret runs in the middle of the night, running from the law? That's about as romantic as it gets."

Kyle flushed. "What are you saying?"

Josi flashed her scary, seemingly sharp-toothed smile. "Nothing," she said. "Nothing at all."

* * *

_Nine Days Later  
11, Vori, year 632_

* * *

"All right," Kyle said, kneeling beside the bed of a sick little boy. "What's your name?"

The boy looked at Kyle with weary eyes. He hadn't been sick with the ECS long, it seemed, because he was able to sit up in the bed, propped up by a single well-loved pillow, without much apparent discomfort.

"Eiden," the boy said. "Who are you?"

"Kyle," the Nindroid said, slipping on a pair of disposable gloves. "And this is my pretty assistant, Vara. Here. I'm gonna put my hands up here and feel behind your ears. Is that all right?"

Eiden nodded, then winced. He was probably fighting a migraine. Varasach remembered that pain well.

After a moment Kyle finished touching the boy's head and placed his finger at the base of Eiden's neck, feeling his heartbeat. "Vara, please get the needle ready."

Varasach dug into her knapsack and prepared the antidote and the needle as Kyle continued his examination.

"Will he be okay?" asked a man behind them, by the door. Eiden's father.

"Probably," Kyle reassured him. "It looks like the symptoms just started, what, a day ago?"

"Yes," the father answered.

"Good. Then there's a high chance that he'll survive." He tweaked Eiden's nose. "You're pretty strong, I can tell. How old are you? Ten?"

"Seven," the boy said with a smile.

"Seven?" Kyle whistled. "That's it? Wow, you look so much bigger than that."

He actually looked small for his age, Varasach thought, but she didn't say so. She could see what Kyle was doing.

"Okay…" Kyle rubbed his hands together. "Fill it to the five, Vara. He doesn't need much."

Varasach nodded, filled the needle, and set it in Kyle's gloved palm. His hands were stout and strong. For some reason this appealed to Varasach, and she looked away, embarrassed.

"All righty-ho. Eidan, I'm gonna put this medicine in your arm. It'll hurt a little, but you'll feel much better when I'm done. Are we good?"

"Yeah," Eidan replied, deciding it was better not to try nodding again.

_He's so happy with kids,_ Varasach noted, watching as the Nindroid lifted the boy's arm, cleaned it with some disinfectant, and inserted the needle. _He and Josi both. Their eyes light up, and their smiles get brighter. They're-_

"Here, Vara." Kyle handed back the empty needle. "There we go, Eidan. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Eidan stared at the bleeding pockmark in his skin, face ashen. "N…no," he said eventually. "I don't like needles." With that, his eyes rolled back in his skull, and he fell asleep.

"Don't be alarmed," Kyle said as the boy's father leaped forward. "There's some sedatives mixed with the antidote. He'll be asleep for a few hours, and then he'll wake up feeling much better. Not yet healed, but better." He smoothed the boy's hair and set him between the sheets, then stepped back, allowing the father to come forward. "Have a good night."

"Thank you," the man said, tears shining in his eyes. He withdrew a small bag of coins from his pocket. "Here. Take this."

Kyle accepted a handful of silver coins with a nod and a smile. "Thank you very much," he said. "This money will help save more lives."

"I hope so," the man said, guiding them from the bedroom, across the kitchen, and to the door. He opened it, and Kyle and Varasach stepped outside. "Good night. And…I'm sorry about this."

"About what?" Kyle asked, but he was speaking to a closed door. "Hmm. Odd." He shrugged. "How're you doing, Vara?"

Varasach shivered as she slung her knapsack over her shoulder. She slipped on her gloves, watching as her breath floated in a dark cloud up toward the moonlit sky. "Cold," she said. "It is very cold."

Kyle examined her top to bottom with a concerned frown. "You want to go back for the night? It's getting really late-"

"No," Varasach said, making her way toward their horses, tied to a tree near the road. "No, no. I'm fine. Let's do a few more tonight."

"If that's what you want," Kyle said. "But seriously, Vara. You're not a Nindroid. You can't push yourself. If you're cold, we should-"

He was interrupted a second time. Not by Varasach, but by the low hiss of a sword sliding from its sheath. This hiss was followed by several more in quick succession, and Kyle whirled, hand flying to his side. "On your horse," he whispered. "Now."

Varasach fled, but her path was cut off by a half dozen men garbed in black and gold. _Guards,_ she realized, hand flying to the straps of her knapsack. _That's why the man apologized as he pushed us out the door. He must have alerted them. But how? Why?_

She turned, finding Kyle in a predicament much like hers. There had to be twenty Guards total. They slinked out of the shadowy woods surrounding Vara and Kyle, boxing them in. Swords glinted in the starlight.

"You're surrounded," said one Guard, a short man with broad shoulders. "Surrender, or we'll use violence."

Kyle spat to the side, eyes on fire. "We saved your son!" he shouted at the small farmhouse behind him. "And this is how you repay us? Hypocrite!"

"What will it be?" the Guard asked, approaching slowly, like a cat preparing to pounce on its prey.

"What will it be?" Kyle repeated. His dark expression made Varasach glad she wasn't his enemy. "In the past three days, we've saved almost seventy people from the plague. What makes us criminals?"

"You work with Borg," said another Guard, scoffing. "He's a dangerous criminal, which makes you accomplices."

_Dangerous?_ Varasach thought of Cyrus. His smile. The gentle way that he spoke and cared for everyone. _What makes him dangerous?_

There was a _snap_, followed by a sharp whipping noise that sliced the air. A dark object hit Kyle's side, and he fell in the snow, grunting. He struggled, but could not move his arms from his sides. Before Varasach could identify the device that had so effectively trapped Kyle, a handful of Guards charged, pinning the Nindroid down. Then, hands ripped the knapsack from Varasach's back, and her hands were tied in thick ropes. She struggled far less than Kyle.

"Hurry it up, men," the first Guard said. "And be quiet. We don't want to cause a ruckus. Not all men in this town are as eager to have these two executed as our informant."

_Executed?_ Varasach exchanged a glance with Kyle. As she watched, all the anger drained from Kyle's face, replaced with panic. He pushed against the device- a net of ropes, Varasach realized- with a desperate burst of strength. It did no good.

"Leave the girl out of this," Kyle gasped as he was dragged to his feet. "She knows nothing. _Please_."

"Absolutely not," the Guard said. "Borg is a dangerous man, and all associated with him must die.

"The King's orders."

* * *

_Three Days Later  
14, Vori, year 632_

* * *

The consequences of that night were devastating. The stress, the snow, the wind…they all contributed to the problem that left Varasach near-death in the small, dimly-lit hospital room. Her flooded lungs struggled with each inhale; each labored exhale fogged the oxygen mask strapped about her nose and mouth.

Cole sat by Varasach's bed, humming a lullaby. He was worried, Varasach could tell. His fingers shook as he stroked her withered, blackened hand. She couldn't feel his touch- her whole body felt heavy and numb. But she could see him. Could see the way he tenderly touched her, the way he wilted each time he met her eyes.

He moved his hand to her face and stroked her hair: she couldn't feel that either. She wondered if Cole could sense her fear. Surely it showed in the way she looked at him, the way her eyes moistened and her eyebrows bunched.

_Where is he?_ Varasach wondered, glancing at the door. _Where is Kyle? He's been missing for a day now. I can't leave without telling him goodbye…_

Cole noticed the direction of her gaze. An expression torn between sympathy and frustration crossed his face. "He's still missing," he murmured, voice cracked and broken. He swallowed. "Kai's still out there, too. I guess…it's too much to ask that they're safe together somewhere, waiting out the storm."

Varasach's eyes blurred with tears she could not feel, and she closed them. Cyrus had assured them that Kyle could not be killed by the storm. But there was always the possibility that he had been captured by Guards again…

Varasach put the thought out of her mind. _He's fine,_ she told herself firmly. _He'll be back. I'll see him again before I…I…_

"Hey, hey…" Cole removed her mask and wiped away the bile that had bubbled up from her lungs, choking her. "Don't cry. You're okay. Vara, please…" And then he was crying too, softly, as he replaced her mask over her now clean face. "I'm sorry, Vara. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you. I made you lonely, and then you started spending time with those twins, and then _this_ happened. I-"

There was a knock at the door, cutting Cole off. He wiped his eyes as Ryndl entered, a ledger under her arm. The Nindroid's eyes were soft as she sat opposite Cole and took Varasach's other hand.

"What are you doing here?" Cole bit off each word. Varasach understood his desire for them to be alone, but she did want Ryndl near. The Nindroid's presence comforted her; offered her support in a way that Cole could not.

"I said I'd come back and sing for you," Ryndl answered. She looked down. "Are you comfortable, Vara?"

_No,_ Varasach wanted to say, but her lips weren't working. It was all she could do to draw in a slow, watery breath through her nose.

Ryndl's olive-green eyes softened, and she spared a glance at the monitor next to the bed, checking the numbers. Whatever she saw must not have been good, because she looked away with a heavy sigh, not meeting Varasach's eyes. Then she began to sing.

_On this ever-upward path I climb…_

Her voice was amazing. Varasach brought to mind Cole's description of his mother's singing: deep, sweet, clear. A voice that reverberated pleasantly in her ears.

_…Lead me by Your perfect design._

_The Way,_ Varasach thought, closing her heavy eyes. _This is a song about the Way. Ryndl and Josi both talked about it._ The realization lifted a heavy weight from her shoulders.

_Lend me light by which to see…_

"I love you, Vara," Cole whispered close to her ear.

Varasach felt too tired to open her eyes. But she tried to smile as she thought,_ I love you too._

_…In this dark passage comfort me._

"I'll be there soon," Cole continued. "Okay? Tell them to wait for me."

_Soon?_ Varasach's weak heart fluttered desperately. Like a wounded bird. _No, Cole! Stay. Please. Let me go. You- you don't know the Way yet. You can't…_ Even as the words came to her, they slipped away, as though she were trapped in a vacuum. Every bit of strength, which she desperately wanted to use to reach out and squeeze Cole's hand- or at least open her eyes to _look_ at him, was that too much to ask?- was stolen from her. _Gone…gone…gone._

The more she struggled against her desire to sleep, the sleepier she became. Voices around her slowly faded. Ryndl had stopped singing, she realized with some disappointment. People were shouting. A new female voice had entered the room, and was conversing urgently with Ryndl. Cole joined in, and there was quiet for a moment.

_What's going on?_ The fear was almost enough to stun her into opening her eyes again. _Why was everyone shouting? Is it me? Are-_

"I'm sorry, Vara." The voice was Cole's. "I…I have to go. Goodbye."

_What?_ Varasach's eyes opened at last. Through dark, fuzzy vision she saw Cole follow Ryndl out of the room.

The door shut, and Varasach was alone.

_No…_ Varasach shifted her eyes to her hand- discolored, lying on top of the sheets beside her- and noticed that it was trembling. Her mask fogged as she let out a pull of air. She attempted to draw in a new one, but her chest seized- fluids bubbled up from her lungs, filling her mouth. She tried to breathe through her nose, but her entire passage was clogged. She choked, tears flooding her eyes. _I'm…sure Cole had a good reason. But…_

Colors swirled together as Varasach's vision faded to gray. _Please…_ She tried again to breath, but only splattered blood and bile onto her mask. _Please, please…_ She had no idea what she was pleading for.

A door slammed shut, and Varasach momentarily stilled, still unable to breathe. Even unable to feel her heartbeat, she knew that it had to be faltering.

"Oh, Vara…"

_Josi_. Varasach found herself crying again as the blonde Nindroid entered her sight.

"Vara, Vara…" Josi murmured, removing the girl's mask. She leaned over the bed and went mouth-to-mouth with her, drawing out a mouthful of fluid. She turned and spat the bile straight onto the floor, then hurried in again to draw out the remaining blockage. It took a little longer to get the stuff deep in her throat, but when Josi pulled away and spat onto the floor, Varasach managed a tiny gasp. The Nindroid pinched Varasach's nose and breathed into her mouth, filling her lungs with air. Again and again she breathed into Varasach, forcing her flooded lungs to expand until at last she stepped back, and Varasach found that she could breathe on her own. Barely.

"I was just on my way back from the revising and I saw Cole and the others leave your room." Josi slid her thumb along the girl's cheek, drying her tears, then replaced the oxygen mask. "Why did he leave you like that, Vara?"

Varasach felt stronger- but only a little. She could already feel herself slipping again. Her eyelids drooped, and her breathing came ragged and wet. Like she was trying to gargle mud.

Josi stood and moved to the sink, rinsing her mouth with water. She patted herself dry with a napkin, then returned and sat by the bed, picking up a ledger- Ryndle must have dropped it in her rush.

Josi read the report quickly, then growled. "I'm sorry, Vara," she said. "Apparently Ryndle got left in charge of you because all of the _real_ doctors are either helping other patients or have caught the plague. You got left in the care of Ryndl, a _really_ inexperienced nurse who only got activated, like, two days ago. Wow. I'm so sorry. I should have visited sooner. Then I could have sorted this out, and…"

Her soft, honey-colored eyes filled with tears, and she sank into a chair. She took Varasach's hand. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I can't believe I didn't visit you sooner. It's just…I had assumed you were okay. And I've been really busy…"

Varasach's only response was a raspy cough.

"No, no…" Mindful of the tubes and wires all around the bed, Josi sat on the mattress and cradled Varasach's head on her lap. "Hey. You can't leave me here alone. Stick around 'till Kyle comes back. Don't you want to see him again? _Vara?_"

Varasach, unaware that she had closed her eyes, reopened them and looked up. Josi's tears fell and shattered on her face.

_…Why did he leave me…?_

Josi stroked Varasach's hair, laying out the long red curls on the pillow. "Hey…hey…shh. You'll be okay. Don't be scared."

Varasach brought to mind her words to Cole many months ago. An orange string, an unruly little toddler.

_How are you not scared? _Varasach had asked.

_I _am_ scared._ Cole had played with Varasach's hair, much as Josi did now. _I'm just choosing to ignore it._

Varasach met Josi's eyes, watched as her vision began to fade again to gray. She blinked, struggling to keep awake, hoping against hope that Cole would emerge through that door and be with her again.

"Do you remember the Way?" Josi asked, sounding frantic. She pressed a palm to Varasach's forehead, as though that would anchor her to this world; keep her alive, just for a little longer. "Please, Vara. It's important. Do you remember?"

_The Way,_ Varasach thought. _Like in the song Ryndl sang. Yes, I remember._

"_Holy One, ever the same…_" Josi tried to sing, but her voice was unsteady. "_…A-all we do is…for Your gain. In w…wisdom all our ways you…know…_" She declined into low, muted sobs, only every other word intelligible.

_Don't cry,_ Varasach wanted to say. _You said it yourself- if I follow the Way, I will be in a better place. _Once she thought these words, her fear fell away. She realized how silly it was to fret over what was happening. _I'll finally be happy- really happy. No more numbness, no more loneliness. It will be…_ Unable to find the right word, she tapered off.

"Haven't you had enough?" Josi whispered, her face now in Varasach's hair. "I-I know that you can hear me. There are so many dead. Please…please come back. Save us."

_…freeing,_ Varasach thought, proud of herself for finding the word. _It will be…freeing._

Those were her last thoughts before she surrendered to the darkness, and she knew no more.

* * *

_Five Years Prior  
26, Loun, year 627_

* * *

_Pain._

Cole's entire world was pain as he was dragged down a muggy, torchlit hall. Only half awake, he panted, sweat slick on his face, dripping down his back and chest.

The skin above his left breast was raw and blistered in an angry red ring, like a fiery eye. _The Ouroboros._

Overlord spoke a few words in the Dark Tongue, and the two stone warriors dragging Cole's body stopped. A servant girl stopped beside them, a tray of food and water in her hands. Cole hoped that was for him; he hadn't had anything to drink for almost a day. His throat was raw and parched.

"This cell should be empty," Overlord said, glancing at Cole momentarily before drawing out a key ring and unlocking the door. He grabbed a lantern from the wall and fixed it in a sconce inside the cell. The woman and stone warriors deposited the tray and Cole inside. Overlord dismissed them with a wave.

Overlord was a tall man, with silver hair- cut and styled military fashion, shaved on the side and combed forward on top. Silver eyes. And tall. Overlord was _very_ tall. He towered like a mountain over Cole, powerful arms crossed, lips pulled tight above a strong, square jaw. His fingers absently tapped the hilt of a sword at his side. A sword with a white gem in the hilt, which seemed to somehow glow with its own light.

_Colvyr,_ some coherent part of Cole's mind said as he pulled himself to his knees. _Lord Keith's military general, once upon a time._

"You're mine now," Overlord said. "And you will be mine until one year from today, else I harm your family. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Cole said through gritted teeth. Trying to appear strong and defiant, though all he wanted was to curl into a ball and cry until the pain of his brand subsided.

"Good." Overlord's eyes swept the room, and he focused on a dark spot in the corner. His eyebrows went up momentarily. "Oh," he said quietly, as though talking to himself. "I'd forgotten about that." He looked back to Cole, smiling. "I'll send someone for you and the corpse tomorrow. Until then…" Turning from his prisoner, he exited the cell and shut the door, locking it behind him. _Click._

Alone at last, Cole released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and closed his eyes. The room smelled rank, and he grimaced.

_Corpse,_ he thought, pulling his hair from his eyes and turning to the corner Overlord had been so transfixed by. _What, I'm boarding with a dead person? What kind of sick prison does Overlord run down here?_

His eyes locked on the corner, and he saw the corpse in question. Curiosity overcame his disgust, and he crawled closer, favoring his left arm because of the brand.

The body belonged to a girl- Cole guessed her age to be fourteen, though it was hard to tell in the West, what with how tiny all the women were. She had died on her side, legs and arms tucked close to herself. Her hair seemed brown, though Cole thought it looked a little red; the brown was likely just filth from the floor.

A pang of compassion struck Cole's chest. _She hasn't been dead long,_ he thought, easing the girl onto her back. _Poor thing. She must have starved to death. Rigor mortis hasn't even set in yet… I wonder if I could have saved her, if I'd been a few minutes sooner…_ He touched the girl's face. Cold, but soft. Hollow cheeks, covered in grime; human waste. That was probably the smell that Cole had mistaken for bodily decay.

A puff of warm air tickled Cole's finger. He jerked back, gasping. _She's breathing!_ His initial horror turned to relief, and he pressed a finger to the girl's wrist. A light tap indicated that her heart was beating. Barely.

"Oh, Hosts…" Cole ran for the tray and grabbed the cup of water. Returning to the girl's side, he shook her carefully: she seemed as delicate as wet paper. "Hey. Wake up. Come on."

There was no response, so he propped her against himself- trying futilely to ignore the pain of his brand- and lifted the cup to her cracked lips. He poured a small stream into her mouth. At first nothing happened.

Then, she swallowed. Encouraged, Cole continued. Patiently, just a little at a time, Cole administered about half of the liquid into her body over the next fifteen or so minutes. Then she began to stir, twitch her nose, breathe a little deeper.

"Hey," Cole murmured, setting down the pewter cup. "Are you gonna wake up, lazybones?"

The girl's eyelids fluttered for a moment, hesitantly. Perhaps the light was too bright? She'd been living in darkness for only the First King knew how long. He blocked as much of the lantern light as he could with his body, speaking again. "Come on. I know you have it in you. Wake up…"

This time, the girl's eyes flew open, full of fear, and she gasped.

"H-hey! It's all right!" Cole gently set her head on the floor and held up his hands, a gesture of peace. _Does she even speak my language? Probably not. My gibberish might be what's spooking her._

So he silenced himself, slowly moving his hand to pick up the water cup. The girl watched his every motion, her green eyes wide. When Cole tried to give the cup to her, she squealed and tried to scoot backwards, though her arms were too weak to do much more than twitch other sides. She couldn't even get her head off the floor.

Cole got one hand under her head and helped her up, then touched the cup to her lips.

The girl somehow flailed her arm and batted the cup from Cole's hand. It clattered to the floor, its contents draining into a dark crack.

Cole took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. "Good job," he said. "There went both our water rations for the rest of the night."

The girl, realizing what she had done, somehow managed to look more afraid.

Cole smiled and pushed her filthy hair from her eyes. "It's all right," he said, though he knew she understood even less of his language than he did of hers. "We can get more tomorrow. You can last 'till then. Here. You hungry?"

He reached out and pulled the tray close. "Mmm. Looks like…an appetizing green mush with bits of something…orange drowning in it. Yeah. I just lost my appetite." He picked up the bowl and dipped the spoon inside its murky depths. "Because I'm just that generous, you can have it all."

The girl stared at the bowl with disbelief and longing. Cole was sure that she would be drooling if she'd had enough water in her to do so. He offered her a bite. She didn't take it, though it was obvious that she wanted it.

"It's all right." Cole did his best to sound friendly and positive. "You can have it." He nodded, hoping she would understand the gesture.

Apparently she did, because she popped the spoon into her mouth and swallowed so fast Cole swore that if he'd blinked he would have missed it.

"How long has it been since your last meal, anyways?" He spooned another bite into her mouth, then another. "Hey, now. Take it easy! It you eat too fast you could throw it back up again."

Cole hated having to do it, but he eventually set the bowl aside. "Sorry, uh, whatever your name is. You'll hurt yourself if you keep eating like that. Let's just wait a few minutes."

The girl was now able to sit against the wall without his help. She eyed the bowl sadly, but was eventually distracted when she noticed Cole's fresh Ouroboros brand. Her eyebrows crinkled. "_E'he,_" she said. Her voice made Cole pause. It sounded more like the pitch you'd expect from ten-winters child, not a teenager like herself. _It's cute, though, _Cole thought. _I like it._

"Yeah…" he said, wincing as he moved to a more comfortable position. "This hurts a lot. He didn't even give me bandages or anything. I hope it doesn't get infected…" _Sleep,_ he thought. _Once I'm done taking care of this girl, I'm going to sleep, and I'm not waking up for a very long time._

"What's your name, anyways?" he asked.

The girl gave him a confused stare.

_How do I get her to understand? _Cole looked away and pursed his lips. The initial pain from his brand was dulling, though it still hurt. It throbbed in time with his heartbeat, making it impossible to ignore.

When Cole looked at the girl again, he saw that she was also pursing her lips. _Is she…mimicking me?_ The notion amused him.

Finally, he pointed at himself. "Cole," he said, enunciating the word as clearly as he could. "I am Cole."

The girl hesitated, then pointed at herself. "Ch…Chol," she said.

"No, no. _Cole_." He pointed at himself. Then at her.

Understanding flickered across the girl's gaunt features, and she pointed to him. "Kuh…_Cole_."

Cole nodded his approval.

Heartened by her success, she pointed at herself. "Varasach," she said. "_Micha to…_Varasach."

* * *

_Present Day  
__15, Vori, year 632_

* * *

Varasach opened her eyes tentatively, and the darkness fled. Lifting her head, she saw that she was in her hospital room. Josi sat in a chair beside the bed, reading in a book, one leg crossed over the other. A glass of water sat by the bedside, half empty.

Varasach coughed, felt a twinge of pain. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and saw that it was bandaged. Mostly numb until up past the elbow. Three of her fingers were missing. She couldn't find a part of her right now to be sad about that. She was too confused about everything else going on._ I'm supposed to be dead._ Cole had left, and she was dying, choking…

Josi looked up. Her eyes immediately welled with tears, and she smiled. "Welcome back," she said. "Our little miracle."

* * *

**...Aaand Astrid does it again. Sigh...I just can't keep my characters dead. :) Surprise? I hope it's a good one for you!**

**Phew! This one-shot was a handful, let me tell you. I worked on it for over a week, putting several hours pretty much every day into it. That adds up fast. I'm so happy with it, though. It was fun to dig into Vara and Josi's characters some. They'll be fun to play with in the future. (And you WILL be seeing them in the future of TG. They've got an important part to play yet!)**

**I started a board on Pinterest for all of the models/actors I think look like TG characters. You should totally give it a look! My username is ****caitlynn0529. Enter it into the search bar of Pinterest, then, once it's loaded, click _Pinners_. I should come up right away. My True Grit board is easy to find. I've got a picture of Colin O'Donoghue from Once Upon a Time as the cover image. Lol. Please, tell me what you think!**

**One more thing! This one-shot was inspired by the song Broken Lullabies, by Joel and Luke. Give it a listen. You won't regret it. **

**All right, I'm outa here. Thanks for sticking with me, and I really hope you enjoyed! Reviews are greatly appreciated. But thank you just for reading, ya freeloaders. ;) I love you all. *hugs* (::) Have some cookies. Bye! **


	6. A Bolt of Blue

**Hosts. This was a lot shorter and shallower than I thought it would be without all the stuff I cut out... Sorry. It's not very impressive. But because I promised I'd give it to you, here it is. I hope you all enjoy! **

**A quick intro: This happens a year before chapter one of True Grit. :)**

* * *

**A Bolt of Blue**

* * *

_13, Ponon, year 631_

* * *

Ronin slid four silver coins across the counter, unable to keep a smile from his face as his wife gasped.

"Oh, Ronin…" Tina breathed, cheeks turning pink as she touched the bolt of blue fabric. It was the same lovely color as her eyes. That's why Ronin chose it. That and he'd seen her eying it wistfully as they passed the shop window on their way to the market.

"Don't say anything of the cost," Ronin said, kissing her cheek as they wove around the shelves toward the shop's exit. "You deserve something special. It's been a while since you had a new dress." He traced a quick line across her collarbone with his finger, eyes twinkling. "Maybe you could lower the neckline a little with this one…?"

Tina gave him a look, hugging the bolt close to her chest. "Maybe. Still, Ronin…I think Kora needs new clothes more than me. She's almost grown out of-"

"Absolutely not," Ronin said, pushing open the big wooden door. They stepped out into the busy street. "I'll buy fabric for Kora soon. She'll fit in her dress for another few months. But I bought this fabric for you, and you alone. Do you understand me, woman?"

"Yes, sir." Tina rolled her eyes and bumped him with her shoulder. He bumped her back. They smiled.

"You spent a lot of money on this," Tina said. "A whole month, at least, of-"

"What did I say, Tina?" He helped her onto the cart, then clambered on after her, taking the reins. "Don't worry about it. You deserve a treat."

Tina quieted herself. Ronin flicked the reins, and their shaggy old horse plodded back into the middle of the crowded street. The bed of the cart was full cart of veggies, harvested by Ronin himself that week on one of Cyrus' farms. A labor of love. It kept food on the table, plus some on the side to sell for other essentials- like extravagant gifts for his Tina. And the kids, of course. _Speaking of kids…_

"Maybe you should leave a little extra room in the bodice this time, Tina," Ronin said.

Tina turned to him, frowning slightly. "Why? I haven't gained that much weight."

"No, no," Ronin chuckled. "That's not what I meant."

Tina's eyes flash with confusion, then she flushed. "You…think we're ready for another one?"

"Why not?" Ronin steered the little cart around an elderly man who was crossing the street.

"Ronin, we've already got our hands full with three, I don't know if I can handle a fourth."

"No, you can't. But together…"

"We'll be outnumbered two to four. I've had nightmares about that scenario more than I care to mention."

"Kora's a big help around the house. She could start learning how to cook, and Erin could help me some more with barn chores."

"And what about Mitsu?" Tina asked. "Hosts, Ronin. I finally got her out of diapers not a month ago. And now you want to jump back in for a fourth round?"

"I wanted to _jump back in_ months ago," Ronin admitted with an impish grin. "Kids are like an addiction. I can't get enough of their cute little smiles and snuggles."

"Uh-huh." She sighed, sitting back in her seat, fingers absently stroking the fabric. "Well, this gift makes more sense now. You're trying to butter me up."

"What?" He drew out the A sound a lot longer than necessary. "No. The fabric's just 'cause I love you. This…other thing…" He took the reins into one hand and touched her fingers. "…also. Because I love you."

"And…"

"And, because I love kids," Ronin laughed. Then he gasped, taking the reins in both hands again as he dodged a young woman with a handheld cart of baked goods.

"Mmm." Tina set a hand on Ronin's leg, smiling coyly. "Fine. We can try for a fourth. On one condition."

"What's that?"

"That your driving skills improve."

"Deal." Ronin kissed her quickly. "We wouldn't want your poor, pregnant self falling off the cart."

"Right into the mud," Tina sighed. "It'd probably be my first day wearing my new blue dress- with slightly more cleavage- and I'd fall right into a big puddle."

"You'd be a sight, to be sure." Ronin chuckled again, turning his eyes to the road as Tina scoffed. "By the Hosts, I love you so much..."

* * *

**So...this was going to be basically the intro to a much longer scene in which a bunch of conflict happens, but the conflict ended up not...happening...anymore. But I thought it was important for you all to get at least a little glimpse of their relationship now because you're not going to see Tina for a little while yet, and the flashbacks that I'm going to do with her in TG are going to be significantly less...fluffy. **

**So...yeah. I know this isn't much, but reviews are still appreciated. Thanks for reading, and I hope you all have a great week! :D **


	7. Frozen

**Hullo! There won't be a chapter of True Grit this week, I'm afraid, but I hope this cute little one-shot sates you. **

**So...the story behind it: StoneByrd tagged me on DA to list ten ****facts about Kyle. I did, and was thereafter inspired to write this little story about Kyle and Vara's relationship. Adorable, clean fun. ^_^**

**By the way, if you wanted to look at that list, my DeviantArt account is CupOTea16. **

* * *

**Frozen**

* * *

"Looks like we're out of the antidote," Kyle said, rummaging through the knapsack as they stepped down from the porch of a plagued house near the North-Middle border. "That was pretty much perfect. We had just enough for this family."

"Mmm." Varasach lifted her arms and let him situate the pack on her shoulders. The brisk air sent gooseflesh up her arms. "Are we going back now?"

"Do you want to?" Kyle helped her into her cloak. "Eh...sorry. We probably shouldn't have walked out before I was done with the knapsack. You cold?"

Varasach shrugged and yawned, fumbling with the buttons of her cloak with gloved hands. "I weel get warm soon."

Kyle's eyes, while bright and cheery as usual, took on a gentler glow as he helped her button up. He lifted her hood over her hair and flashed his signature lopsided grin, white teeth shining. "We've got a couple hours 'till sunrise," he said, voice toned down as if to avoid damaging the delicate quiet of the snowy world around them. "If we hurry, maybe we can actually make it back in time for breakfast."

The past few days they'd finished their rounds late and had to scrounge up leftovers from the kitchen before Varasach took a nap.

"Or…" Kyle crouched and clasped his hands. Varasach nested her foot in his palms and he hoisted her into the saddle. "…we could grab a room at an inn nearby so you can catch a few winks. Then we could travel back in the daylight. I've saved up some spending money for just such an occasion."

Varasach's face warmed. Kyle did not need sleep or food. He could have used that money for any number of things more useful for himself- his boots were looking a little ragged, she noticed. He should be saving his money to replace those instead.

"I'll be fine," she said. "Let's go back."

"Come on," Kyle said, hopping unthinkingly onto his horse's back. "I've been dragging you around all week. You deserve something special."

"Thank you," Varasach said. "But no. Let's go." She grabbed her reins- which Kyle had handed to her before mounting his horse- and nudged the mare. The shaggy brown beast moved toward the nearby road willingly.

The mare was a gentle creature, but Varasach knew she could never be fully comfortable on its back. Growing up on the Dark Island, she'd had to walk to get to where she wanted to be. Her own two feet were a trustworthy form of transportation there, but here in the deep snow…well, she rode the horse, but awkwardly, and often begrudgingly.

When she reached the road she turned back- nearly losing her balance in the saddle- and saw that Kyle had not moved.

A soft sigh escaped Varasach's lips, sending a puff of steam into the still, starlit air. "What's wrong?" she asked, though she knew what his answer would be, and she had to work hard to hide a smile.

"I've been saving that money for you," Kyle answered. "I was just trying to do something nice…"

Varasach shook her head faintly, glancing up at the night sky. "I can make it home," she said, eyes back on Kyle and his equally shaggy gray and brown horse.

"I never said you couldn't make it home." Kyle's horse plowed through the snow toward her. He grinned impishly. "But please? Humor me."

Varasach could hide her smile no longer. She sighed exasperatedly and nodded, cold cheeks warming as blood rose to the surface.

Kyle laughed softly, unconsciously nudging his horse closer to her. He seemed to be of one mind with his mount, and it responded obediently to even his smallest gestures.

"Let's go, then," he said cheerily, and trotted up the road.

* * *

Traveling along the main Northern road, it took a little over an hour to reach a town large enough to have an inn. As they traveled at an easy pace down its mostly deserted main street, Kyle leaned back in his saddle and stared up at the sky. Light from the tiny sliver of the moon- and the pinkish predawn light- lit up his eyes, and he stayed quiet for a lot longer than was usual for him.

Varasach finally broke the silence. "What are you looking at?"

Kyle waited a long while before answering, body swaying with the gait of his horse.

"There are so many extraordinary things in this world," he said. "Look at those stars. How did they come to be up there? Why do those bright ones there stay in the sky until the sun rises, while others disappear at the first sign of dawn?"

Varasach blinked at him. "I don't know," she admitted. It seemed a strange question to ask. The stars were just _there_. They always had been. And they always would be.

"And the moon," Kyle breathed. No steam escaped from his lips- a phenomenon that, when Varasach asked about it, Kyle had laughed and explained that his "lungs" had no moisture to release. "How does it wax and wane like that? How is its cycle so consistent through the centuries that we are able to use it as our calendar? And the seasons… How does the sun get warm enough to melt the snow? How do these trees get _green_, of all colors, when the sun warms them up?"

"I…don't know."

It was at times like these that Varasach was reminded of Kyle's inhumanity. He had been activated only a few weeks ago. All of this- the stars, the moon, the seasons- were new to him. And he took it all in with childlike wonder, curiosity, and innocence.

Kyle closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Then he exhaled- the cold, dry breath of a robot- and reopened them, smiling serenely at Varasach. He pointed over her shoulder. "We're here."

Varasach reluctantly turned.

They stood before a large, two-story inn. A sign written in Ninjagian graced the low fence surrounding its perimeter. Songs and laughter wafted past, along with generous patches of flickering firelight from the windows. And the unmistakably sweet smell of freshly baked bread.

"The Arrow's Point," Kyle said, reading the sign for her. "Whad'ya think? A good place to stay for a few hours?"

Varasach nodded.

Kyle dismounted, cloak fluttering as he swung out of the saddle, and opened the gate. He took up both horses' reins and led them into the courtyard. A stableboy saw them coming and ran across the yard to take the horses from him. Kyle nodded his thanks and handed the kid a coin.

"Th…thank you," the boy stuttered, pressing his fist to his chest and bowing.

Kyle smiled warmly and held his arms out to steady Varasach as she clambered clumsily from her horse. "You're welcome."

With a hand on Varasach's back, the pair crossed the distance to the inn and went in as the boy hurried off to stable the horses.

The Arrow's Point's door opened inward. Varasach paused, one foot through the frame, staring wonderingly at the interior.

Rows upon rows of tables lined the open area of the first floor. Patrons sat at many of these, enjoying a meal or large mug of some dark drink she did not recognize. The bread smell came from a room off to the side where she saw many women preparing food.

And the room was so _warm. _Varasach had not realized how cold she was until she looked at the three large fireplaces on opposing walls.

"It's a lot bigger than the White Rose, eh?" Kyle chuckled, nudging her forward so he could shut the door. Behind his smile, however, Varasach detected a tight wariness.

He scanned the room with a narrow eye, pulling his lips tight for a moment before his smile returned. Then he put his arm around her and veered forward and to the left, whispering in her ear. "I see a few Guards. We should go unnoticed. But…" His eyes darted to the far corners of the vast room. "…don't make eye contact with them for too long. Or better yet, just pretend they're not there. Okay?" He patted her arm and pulled away a bit, hailing the innkeeper with a wave.

The innkeeper- a gangly man in his late forties- wove around the tables toward them as quickly as he could, generously handing out "Certainly, Sir"s and "I'll be with you in just a moment"s all along his way.

"Good morning!" he said when he finally made his way to them, shouting over the din, a welcoming smile fixed to his lips, though it didn't quite stick in his weary eyes. "You're here for breakfast?"

"And a bed," Kyle answered with a grin. "We've been traveling through the night. Just popping in for a rest before moving on."

The innkeeper looked surprised for a heartbeat, but he quickly hid with a short bow. "This is an unusual place for travelers of your kind," he said. "Especially in the dead of winter. But…of course, of course you are welcome. I will have a bath prepared, too. We have hot water." He said this last part proudly: Varasach had already gathered that hot baths were as much a rarity in Ninjago as they were on the Dark Island.

"That sounds wonderful," Kyle said. "Thank you."

"Of course, of course." The innkeeper ran a hand through his thinning gray hair, as if trying to remember something. "Ah, here… Our tables are full right now…busy today…but I will have something hot brought to your room after your bath, hmm?" He dug into a pocket of his large apron and handed Kyle a key. "Upper floor, fourteenth door on the left. Does three silver klips sound reasonable for all?"

Kyle fished the money readily from his pouch and gave it to the innkeeper.

"Good, good." The innkeeper pocketed the money and glanced over his shoulder as he was hailed by other patrons. "Ah, my name is Uleiman. Just give me a holler if you need anything else." And with that, he was gone.

Kyle wasted no time in getting Varasach- shivering lightly and rubbing bleary eyes, up the stairs.

"I can't imagine working like that," Kyle said as they climbed the flight. "I mean…wow. Did you see how many different orders he was taking at once? He's almost as good as Cyrus with that multitasking thing."

"Mmm," Varasach answered with a yawn, and leaned into Kyle's one-armed embrace as they walked. Under his clothing his body was _freezing_ cold, but she liked his touch too much to pull away, despite her desire to get warm. _We will have warm baths soon,_ she told herself, exhaling shakily.

Kyle counted off the doors under his breath. At fourteen, he extracted the key and unlocked the door. They entered the room together.

A fire burned low in the fireplace. A single bed large enough to fit two people comfortably sat at one end. A wooden table, chairs, and tub also decorated the small room.

Kyle stopped in the room's center, looking around with a confused frown.

"One bed," he observed. He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. "And…one tub. He must have assumed we were a couple… What now?"

"What's wrong with it?" Varasach asked.

"It's just…" Kyle held out his hands as he tried to even begin to explain it. "I guess…the way you grew up, you have no comprehension of…" He lowered his arms in defeat. "Ah, well. I don't want to bother the innkeeper and ask for a different room. I'll just go downstairs for a while. I might pick up some interesting news for Cyrus." He helped Varasach out of her cloak and slipped the knapsack from her shoulders. "Take it easy. I sent my Bird to Cyrus with our plans, and he won't expect us back until this evening. Lock the door after the maids come with the water."

"Mmm," Varasach replied with a shy smile. "Yes. Thank you."

"Absolutely." Kyle handed her the key and left the room.

* * *

With a jolt Varasach awakened, water splashing as her arms flailed. She spluttered and bolted upright, wiping her eyes, shivering.

_I fell asleep in the bath,_ she realized, bewildered. She hugged herself and stepped shakily from the now lukewarm water, leaving wet footprints and splatters on the floor in her wake. How long had she been asleep for? A while, it seemed: her hands and feet were wrinkled, saturated with water. She tore a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around herself, dropping into a chair by the fireplace. The fire had been reduced to embers while she slept, so she tossed in a few small logs.

_How long _have_ I been asleep for? _she wondered again. She looked at the window and saw a bit of sunlight escaping through the closed curtains. Many hours, apparently.

Varasach's heart rate slowed as she rubbed her face, yawning. Her long nap in the tub had done little to alleviate her fatigue.

_It's not yet evening,_ she thought. She had time to sit by the fire and dry herself before she got dressed.

Her stomach growled then, disagreeing with her decision to stay in that chair. She needed to get up and find something to eat. How long had it been since her last meal?

Audibly and painfully, her stomach yowled again.

Too long. She got up and slipped on her clothing. Wringing out her hair over the tub before tying it in a long braid over her shoulder. Lacing up her warm boots, which she'd set before the fire to dry before getting into the bath. Then she reached for the knapsack.

It felt strange setting the knapsack on her own shoulders- had Kyle always done that for her? It felt even stranger to attempt buttoning the front of her cloak by herself. She gave up on the tiny buttons of the cowl after fumbling for a minute and left the cloak open, gray cloth rippling around her shoulders.

_Kyle is probably still downstairs,_ Varasach thought, lifting the door latch. It did not give.

_What? _She panicked, lifting and pulling on the latch with all her might. She was trapped! Someone had locked her-

The key.

Varasach's heart stilled, and she turned to the table where she had left it. _Right. I locked the door earlier. Like Kyle told me. _Moons, she could be so absentminded sometimes…

She unlocked the door and pocketed the key, moving down the hall at a brisk pace. She felt so…lost without Kyle. She hoped he was downstairs at a table waiting for her. _If he left without me…_

No, her paranoia would do her no good. Kyle wasn't like Cole. Of course he wouldn't leave without her.

Thinking of Cole only fueled her anxiety, and she hurried down the stairs so fast that she tripped near the bottom, catching herself on her hands and knees. She stood, brushed herself off, and examined the now less crowded first floor. No one had noticed her fall, it seemed. Good. She was already blushing hard enough.

Being less crowded should have made it easier to find Kyle. It didn't. Varasach found herself wandering between the tables, avoiding eye contact with everybody as she searched. She could feel their eyes on her.

The room was filled with mostly men. Rugged travelers and Guards. Any women she saw were maids in colorful aprons, bussing tables.

"Ah! Good afternoon!" a voice to Varasach's right startled her. She turned and saw the innkeeper, Uleiman. The aged man's brow shined with sweat, and he wrung his hands in his apron. "My apologies. I was going to have a hot meal brought to your room as I promised, but your husband said to let you be. I can have something brought out straightaway if you'd like."

Varasach nodded, allowing the innkeeper's mistake about her status with Kyle to slide. "Where is he?" she asked.

"I…think he went out for a walk," Uleiman said, glancing at the door. "You just missed him. Hmm. He'll be back soon, I'm sure. In the meantime, please, have a seat. I'll have some stew brought out."

Varasach sat at the empty table the innkeeper had gestured to, thankful that her knapsack was empty enough that she could sit back in the chair comfortably. By the time she'd smoothed her skirts, food was being set before her. The maid smiled politely as she presented the tray's contents- a large bowl of stew, a few thick slices of steaming bread on a plate, and a mug of some dark, bitter-smelling liquid.

"Thank you," Varasach said.

"Of course. Give us a holler if you need anything else." The maid tucked the empty tray under her arm and disappeared into the loud bustle of other customers.

The stew was far too hot to eat. Varasach tapped the cup filled with dark liquid, frowning slightly. It smelled a bit like the wine that Cole enjoyed to drink.

She pushed the cup aside and went to the bread. Hard and crusty on the outside, but soft and chewy inside. She devoured two slices before she could restrain herself. When she did stop for a breath, she noticed that others were dipping their bread in the stew. She did the same, blowing on the thick gravy and meat chunks before sinking her teeth in deep.

"It's good, huh?" Another maid came up behind her. Young, about Varasach's age, with sparkling blue eyes. "I see you're not a fan of the stout, though. Sorry about that. I'll bring out some water."

The _stout_ drink was taken away and replaced with a large mug of cold water. Varasach drank thankfully, then picked at the stew some more.

She'd never had a very large appetite. After eating those three slices of bread and about a quarter of the stew, she knew she could not manage another bite. She set down her spoon, looking around nervously, not sure what to do. How much longer would Kyle be out for? Would the innkeeper be insulted if she left the rest of her meal here and went out to search for him?

_What if something's happened?_ she wondered, fingering her skirts. Kyle had warned her about Guards. What if he'd been taken?

This final thought pushed her to her feet. She abandoned her meal and rushed to the door, pulling it open, not looking back for fear that she would get an angry glare from the innkeeper, wherever he was.

She shivered in the sudden cold, squinting her eyes against the bright glare of sunlight off the snow. It took her eyes a minute to adjust. Then, still squinting a little, she entered the plowed courtyard and spun in a circle, examining her surroundings.

At one end of the courtyard was a large stable for the horses. Varasach ran in that direction. She could ask the stableboy if Kyle had taken his horse.

However, once inside, the stableboy admitted that Kyle's horse was still in the paddock.

"I saw him head that way, though," the young man said, pointing to the front gate. "About thirty minutes ago. He went left, down the main street."

Varasach thanked him and asked for her horse. Once mounted- another strange task to do without Kyle's help- she pushed the horse at a fast trot past the gate and onto the wide, busy road.

Grateful that she'd chosen to take her horse, she looked over the heads of the people, watching for a flash of Kyle's colorful scarf or his unruly mop of dark blond hair.

_He must have left just as I woke up,_ she thought, clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering. _If I'd gotten downstairs a few minutes sooner…_

She kept a close eye not only on the milling people, but on the infrastructure. She didn't want to forget her way back. All of the buildings were made from faded brown brick, and most were no shorter than two stories tall. The tallest she saw had to be at least as tall as the evergreens she'd seen in the forest, and she had to crane her neck to see the top. It distracted her for so long that, when she looked back on the people, she cursed herself. Kyle could have passed her by and she wouldn't have noticed.

_He would have noticed _me_, though. I can't have passed him yet. _

…Unless he was in one of these buildings?

Varasach pulled on the reins, on the verge of tears. Where could he be? What if Guards _had_ taken him? What was she supposed to do then?

She could make her way back to Cyrus' keep. She'd wandered the North long enough with Kyle while distributing the antidote that she could navigate the roads. Maybe. She and Kyle always worked at night, and she had to admit, everything looked far different during the day. She would probably have to ask for directions to the main road…

_Look at me. Already acting as though I've been abandoned._ She hunched low in the saddle, certain that she looked like a lost, frightened child to all these other people on the road.

She was no stranger to abandonment, and she was not afraid to admit it. Overlord had abandoned her in that cell years ago. She would have died if Cole hadn't happened to have been placed in that same cell _weeks_ later.

Cole had abandoned her, too, and now spent all of his time with Chedva. But even before Chedva had been found, Cole had been distant, not sharing his thoughts with Varasach like he used to, treating her like he wished she'd leave him to his lonely misery.

Was Kyle leaving her, too?

_What's wrong with me? _Tearfully she nudged her horse. It shook its mane in what seemed to her a sympathetic gesture before plowing through the crowd. _What makes me so…expendable to other people? So forgettable?_

She allowed the horse to wander at its own pace, and after a minute wondered if it had already forgotten that this useless twig of a girl was sitting on its back.

The mare picked its way around the crowd delicately, particularly wary of playing children and loud merchants. Eventually the horse found its way to a wide river, and they followed it upstream until a smaller creek, frozen over, branched off from it. The horse wandered up that direction instead. Away from town. Away from the people.

Varasach didn't care. She knew she'd eventually have to go back to the inn- maybe Kyle would be waiting for her there- but for now she wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

The horse paused a few times, lifting its head, swiveling its ears. Then it would continue on, picking its footing carefully as the creek wound its way further from the main stream.

Eventually Varasach was able to breathe easy again, and though she shivered terribly, she was grateful for the cold breeze. It woke her up, took away the drowsiness that her nap had been unable to shake. It lifted her cloak and got inside her skin, carrying away her sadness. Most of it, at least. Good riddance. How stupid of her to think that Kyle would leave her! He'd gone for a walk, like the innkeeper said. He was enjoying the snow, and the sun, and the light breeze that played with the leafless trees and blew snow from the trees.

The horse snorted and pranced in place. Varasach pulled the reins gently and looked around, wondering what had the mare all worked up.

Then she heard shuffling footsteps ahead, and she bent low on the horse's woolly neck to see under the sagging, snow-laden branches.

Then she heard a voice. She urged the horse forward cautiously, drawing her cloak close to avoid getting snow in her clothes as she brushed against the branches.

She saw him at the same time he saw her, and they stared at each other comically for a moment, her shivering on her poor, snow-coated brown mare, him on a log above the frozen creek, one foot in the air, as if he'd been walking down its length and had paused mid-step when he saw her. His blue and yellow scarf fluttered in the wind, and snow stuck to his eyelashes and hair.

Kyle slipped from his perch and fell in the creek, breaking the top layer of ice with a _crack_ and a _splash_.

Varasach cried out and leaped from her horse, getting her foot caught in a stirrup. She got a face full of snow before disentangling herself and running to the bank. "Kyle!"

Spluttering, Kyle stood in the center of the knee-deep creek, arms raised to inspect the damage. He looked more surprised than hurt, and Varasach ran onto the ice to reach him.

"Hold on!" Kyle exclaimed, holding out a hand to stop her. "I uh…think I weakened the ice. Go back so you don't fall in, too."

Varasach slowly backed up until she reached the bank. "Are you okay?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I-"

"I'm fine," Kyle said, grinning, shaking shards of ice from his cloak. He lifted a waterlogged boot and stepped up onto the ice. It splintered under his weight. He slipped and fell, splashing again, spluttering again. "I- Fine! No- No, don't try to come out here, Vara! I'll come to you."

Splaying his hands on the ice, he slowly slid up out of the water on all fours. When it cracked again he dropped to his belly, spreading his weight over a larger portion of the brittle ice, and wriggled his way to the bank. Varasach might have giggled at the sight if she weren't so distressed.

When he reached her, Varasach helped him to his feet. "Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, touching his cold face. His clothes had already nearly frozen, and he walked as though his joints had stuck.

Kyle nodded, eyes confused but as bright as the winter sun above them. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Don't give me that look! It takes a lot more than this to hurt me." He grimaced. "My clothes are uncomfortable, though. What about you?" His grimace turned to a confused stare. "How did you find me, Vara?"

"I…don't know. Um, what are you doing out here?"

"I needed to get away from some Guards that were staring at me kinda…malignantly," Kyle confessed. "Sorry. I figured you were safe enough in the room, so I led those Guards on a wild goose chase in the woods a ways down there." He pointed across the creek. "I was on my way back across that log when you…startled me." He pulled back her hood, frowning. "Your hair!"

Varasach blinked. "What about eet?"

"It's frozen!" Kyle rapped her braid with a knuckle, and she realized he was right. "What are you doing out here all wet? You were supposed to take a nap after your bath! Why- Hey!"

Varasach took his face- veiled by a thin layer of ice from the creek- in her hands and kissed his cheek.

Kyle remained perfectly still, as though he were completely frozen by the ice, for as many heartbeats as there had been stars in the sky the night before.

Ice. Hosts, he was _freezing. _The frost bit Varasach's lips until she could stand it no longer, then she let him go.

"Vara…"

Or…at least she tried to.

She opened her eyes and saw Kyle staring at her with the same alarm that she now felt as she tried again to pull her lips away.

She was _frozen_ to him.

In a burst of panic Varasach tried to back up, not caring what damage would be done to her mouth, but Kyle caught her by the shoulders and held her still. Her scream got caught in her throat.

Then, suddenly, she was free, and she stumbled back with a whimper, lips throbbing with the worst blinding hot pain she had felt in many years.

"I'm sorry!" Kyle said. "I would have warned you if I'd known you were gonna do that! Are you okay?"

Varasach held a gloved hand to her mouth, fighting back tears as she stumbled into his embrace.

"I usually just let my body get cold when I go outside, because it's annoying to have snow melt and get my clothes wet," Kyle explained. "It's a good thing that I am able to manually warm myself up, or we'd still be…stuck. Why'd you do that?"

Varasach had no answer. Kyle sighed and pulled her closer. She could feel that warmth a little bit as he kissed her forehead.

"Sorry," she whispered at last. "I was just…relieved. I shouldn't have done that."

Kyle lifted her chin. Soft, ever-smiling golden eyes made her a willing captive to his earnest gaze. He parted his lips to say something, but words seemed to fail them both.

Even the forest around them fell silent as she stood on her toes, bringing herself a little closer to him as he bent down to meet her. One warm, wet hand on the small of her back. The other went to her reddened cheek as he kissed her mouth.

Varasach stiffened, then let herself go, hot tears springing from her closed eyes.

Countless kisses had been forced upon her during her lifetime; some more recent than others, in varying levels of brutality. As she relaxed under Kyle's tender touch, she found herself thinking of her most recent savage kiss from Kozu: a secondhand punishment for Cole when he did not return with his prisoners- Kai and Zane- a little under two months ago. The memory almost made her pull back in fear: she knew only one way for a kiss to end, and she needed to flee before it was too late.

Kyle's hand slid up to her neck, now so warm that her spine shivered. She tried to remember what she'd done with her own hands, and found them balled into fists against his chest.

There was no need to flee from this. From him. She was safe. Safer than she had ever felt in her life.

The kiss faded far too soon. Kyle straightened a little, wiping away her tears with his thumb, eyebrows crinkled with concern.

"You," he murmured, "are _way_ too cold." And he kissed her again, lightly, as he pulled her hood up over her frozen hair. "We should head back to the inn. And...let's not tell anyone of this, hmm?"

Varasach nodded, shaking as his hands left her face. "Cole would be angry," she said, smiling, voice far more tenuous than she liked.

Kyle chuckled. "I was actually thinking of Josi teasing us. But…yeah. Neither of them need to know."

Varasach dipped her head in the beginning of a nod, but was interrupted by a pair of voices across the creek.

"There he is!"

Kyle looked over his shoulder and muttered something under his breath.

"What?" Varasach asked.

"The Guards," Kyle said, a twinkle in his eye. He swept her up in his arms and set her on the horse, then mounted behind her. The mare whinnied her disapproval, but Kyle gave her no choice as he took up the reins and let out a shout, pushing the horse into a run. Varasach would have fallen off if not for his arm around her middle, keeping her steadily planted in the seat, her back against his chest.

Safe. Even with those Guards tailing them, tracking them, longing to capture them in the name of their King's so-called justice, she was safe.

She laughed at the clear blue sky, and Kyle laughed with her.

* * *

**I was thinking of ideas for a kiss. And what immediately popped into my head was Kyle, Vara, and Josi doing something silly together, and Josi is just watching them giggling and being just totes adorbs, and she ****grabs both of them by the hair and smashes their faces together, screaming: "Just KISS already!" **

**...I did eventually scrap it, but I had to tell you. :3 **

**I just don't know... This last scene didn't turn out at all like I'd planned. But after contemplating it for a while I decided that I had nooooo idea what I'd wanted in the first place (besides some comedy and fluff), and I was never very serious about this one-shot in the first place, so mistakes can be overlooked? :S I guess? **

**So recently I got to thinking about relationships between humans and robots, and I realized...wow, I would never condone that in real life! So what am I doing here? The KylexVara thing will have to go in the rewrite, I'm afraid, but I could not resist writing this fluff at least once. (let's just pretend that Vara's a robot too in this scene. Or something. Lol) **

**But don't fear for Jixal! In the rewrite Pixal's doppelgänger will be as human as Jay. :) **

**I hope you all enjoyed! Tips are appreciated for good service, all that jazz... And thanks, StoneByrd, for the inspiration! **

**I'll see y'all next week! God Bless!**


	8. Hugs

**I was realllyyy hesitant to post this one-shot here. I've had it on DA for nearly two months, but...I don't know. I was nervous about putting an all-OC, slightly depressing AU one-shot in the Ninjago archive. (I think it's bittersweet, not necessarily _depressing_, but again...I just don't know. You might interpret it differently than me.) **

**I finally decided to post it because it gives some insight into Western life before Overlord's reign, and come on! Lord Lerin Keith! That man makes me happy, I tell you what. Such a sweetheart. I know I've said it before, but I would _love_ to write a prequel with Lord Keith, Kaeli, Cyrus, and the rest. Those people are, in my humble opinion, some of the _best_ (and yet tragically underutilized) characters in my entire Ninjago AU universe. (Also, sneaking in some ten-year-old prankster Kai every now and then wouldn't be half bad, eh?)**

**Without further ****adieu...**

* * *

_Hugs_

* * *

_2, Loun, year 613_

* * *

It was dawn when the _Lord's Compass_ pulled into harbor. Large white birds spun around the ship's three masts, crying shrilly.

Kaeli stood in a shadowy place under the stairway on deck, far out of the way so the crewmen could work uninterrupted. She should have been below deck with the rest of the passengers, but she couldn't stand the stuffiness. And besides that, other passengers always gave her odd, even bitter, looks. Perhaps because of her special treatment by the Western Lord, or perhaps because of her status as a slave. Likely both. Lord Keith had sensed her discomfort and often allowed her to hide from their unfriendly stares up on the deck.

Kaeli kept her left hand—hidden by a gray silk glove, despite the sweltering heat of early summer—close to her chest, gently cradling the only possession she had brought with her from the East, wrapped snuggly in a thin blanket. Her other hand, ungloved, touched the smooth, planked wall on her right as she looked out across the water at the island that would now become her home.

The world before her, one of heat, and sand, and tall, oddly-shaped trees, was both her prison and her salvation. She wasn't sure if she should weep or laugh.

_No turning back,_ she told herself firmly, and watched as dozens of people on the large dock, only perhaps a quarter mile out now, scurried to prepare for the ship to anchor. Kaeli squinted at each person in turn, though their faces were hardly recognizable at this distance, hoping for a glimpse of her brother. There were many men in blue uniforms—the Western Guard—along the shoreline, but Gihara's familiar shock of red hair was nowhere to be seen.

_But why would you think he'd be here?_ Kaeli scolded herself. _He has no idea you're coming, and probably has duties elsewhere._ She wondered, not for the first time, what Gihara's reaction would be when he first saw her. Would he laugh and pull her into an embrace? Or would there be stunned silence, followed by awkward questions and hesitant conversation?

Or worse, would he shun her completely? She had not seen him since her relocation from Peran's home to the King's. Was that because no one was allowed to see her, or because nobody wanted to? A marked slave could seriously damage his or her family's reputation. Despite the Western Lord's insistence to the contrary, Kaeli knew that her being here could seriously damage Gihara's name.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked a familiar voice behind Kaeli. She turned to face Lord Keith.

"I always preferred the pine woods in the North, my lord," she answered quietly. "But I suspect I will grow to love this place, too."

"You will indeed." Keith chuckled. The hot breeze tugged at his hair, pulled back by a beaded ribbon, as was proper for a Lord. He set a hand on Kaeli's shoulder. Around them, the ship's crew worked hard tossing each other ropes, shouting commands, and working at the two anchors on either side of the ship, letting them down slowly to create drag to help ease them into the harbor. Some of these men also wore blue uniforms, though many others, tough and tanned, were professional sailors, paid by Lord Keith to help keep things running smoothly.

_Paid work_. The term seemed so foreign after her four years of slavery. The Northern Lord Rector and Lord Keith had both assured her that she would not be made a slave here—Keith ruled differently than Garmadon, and adhered to different laws. It was said that the West was already a haven to a few escaped slaves, but Keith would neither confirm or deny that rumor: to do so would likely make a bitter enemy of the entire Amokan upper class, which made much of its profit off of the slave markets.

"Would you like me to escort you to your brother after we disembark?" Keith asked.

Kaeli pulled herself from her reflections with a start. The ship had come alongside the massive dock now, and men were tying off the vessel and securing the gangplank. "N-no, my lord," she said, looking down and bowing slightly, still holding her bundle close. "You've done enough for me already, letting me come on your voyage without paying for my fare. Your kindness—"

"My name is Lerin," Keith said, touching her chin, prompting her to look into his eyes, dark and blue, like the sea on a starry night. "Listen to me, Kaeli. You're not a slave anymore. You never should have been made one in the first place: that was a terrible aberration of justice on the High General's part, in my opinion. But you're free now. You can look me in the eyes, and you can call me by my name. I'm not your lord; I'm your friend." His smile bunched only one cheek, giving him a youthful look, though he was many years older than Kaeli's twenty-one. "Besides. We're family."

"Hardly." Kaeli's face felt hot, and not just because of the bright sun. She and Keith shared a common ancestor three generations passed. Scarcely a reason for him to be treating her, a defiled slave, so kindly. "Thank you, _Lerin._ Just…just point me in the right direction, and I'll be able to find Gihara on my own."

Keith chuckled and walked out from under the stairway. With his hand still on her shoulder, Kaeli felt compelled to follow him. "That way," he said, pointing to the small port town just beyond the dock. "Your brother's in the fourth regiment, so he's likely on duty at the Keep right now. That's over a mile inland, though, so find Jaerad, the man that works in that shop over there by the lopsided palm. See it?"

Kaeli followed his finger to the small shop in question, right near the dock. She nodded.

"Tell him that Lerin sent you, and you need a ride to the keep. He has a horse that can take you there."

"I can walk," Kaeli said. "Honest. I don't want to be a bother to anybody… And besides, I don't have money to pay for the service."

"You're _not_ a bother to us, Kaeli," Keith said. He glanced down at Kaeli's precious cargo, then back at her large brown eyes. "Jaerad will be happy to help you. I promise. And when you find your brother, tell him that he can have the day off to help you get settled in." He gestured with a nod to the now affixed gangplank. Sailors and soldiers were now unloading cargo. Soon the passengers would be allowed to leave the lower levels and disembark the ship. Kaeli felt guilty as she realized that not only had she not been required to pay for this weeklong passage across the ocean, but she was now also allowed to leave the ship before anyone else. What had she done to deserve this generous treatment?

"Time to go," Keith said, kissing Kaeli's hand. "If you won't let me take you the whole way, I'll at least walk you off the ship. Come on."

* * *

Jaerad, a man in his late thirties with skin darkened by long days in the sun, had indeed been happy to help her. Immediately dropping all of his duties in his shop where he cleaned and packaged customers' fish, he saddled his horse for a very flustered Kaeli and took her to the Keep. Kaeli thanked the man, and with a hearty laugh he told her it was his pleasure—besides, he owed their Lord a favor—and trotted back to the docks without another word, leaving her on the Keep's front lawn.

Kaeli examined the West Keep with fascination. Set apart from the other buildings in the town, surrounded by trees and colorful brush, with spotty, pale crabgrass for a lawn, the Keep was made from sandy-colored bricks, and a small fraction of the size of the King's home.

Thinking of the King was a mistake. She swallowed hard to abate a sudden wash of nausea. _He's gone,_ she told herself. _He can't touch you or Aida here._ This was the start of a new life for the both of them. A new day; a turned page in the book of their lives. Kaeli was determined not to ruin this moment by thinking of _him._

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

Kaeli turned to see a tall, uniformed man with blond hair and a narrow face approaching her. "Y-yes, please," she said, unable to keep her voice from wavering. "Um…I'm looking for Gihara. Lerin—um, Lord Keith said he might be here."

The man examined her impatiently—he was likely just arriving himself, and had places to be—but when he saw her gloved hand he frowned. "You're Gihara's…sister?"

"…Yes."

The man continued to frown at her. Kaeli looked away from his eyes, suddenly ashamed of herself for having the audacity to look at him so boldly. It wasn't appropriate for a woman of her rank to do such a thing.

_Get a grip_, she told herself. _Even with your mark, you're not a slave anymore._ Let this man think whatever he wanted. All she cared about was finding her brother.

Taking a deep breath, going against every instinct that had been drilled into her since she was first seized from her family, she looked dead into this solder's eyes. Judging by the gold cord on his uniform, he was of high rank. Likely a lieutenant. "Gihara is in the fourth regiment, and I want to see him. Please."

Under her threadbare brown dress, her knees knocked. She had not talked this way to anyone in years. But instead of being rewarded with a feeling of empowerment, she felt more timid. What was she thinking? This was no way to—

"Check the orchards," the lieutenant said gruffly, and pointed behind the Keep before walking off in the direction of the front door of the Keep.

"Ah—um, thank you," Kaeli said, bowing before she could stop herself. The lieutenant ignored her.

Thoroughly embarrassed by the scene she'd made, Kaeli scampered down the path that rounded to the back of the Keep, where the orchard lay. She pulled up short in awe.

Whole acres of trees lined the backyard of the Keep. Rows upon rows, each weighed down with countless colored blossoms. Pink and white, mostly, but some were even yellow or red. Down at the end of the orchard, through the trees, Kaeli could see a sparkling body of water—a lake, perhaps, or a wide river. She couldn't tell which from her vantage.

A dozen or so soldiers sat in scattered groups underneath the beautiful trees. Some sat in silence, evidently still waking up as they drank from canteens, or ate their breakfasts of bread or fruit. Others spoke affably, stretching their limbs or practicing fencing routines with swords that glittered in the early morning light. For them, just an ordinary beginning to an ordinary day. But for her, a first glimpse of a whole new, strange world.

Kaeli picked Gihara and his red hair out among a group of sparring soldiers, and her heart raced. He hadn't noticed her yet; he was sparring with a short, broad-shouldered man, while two other soldiers sat to the side, watching with sleepy disinterest.

Hosts. What was Kaeli supposed to do? Interrupt their match and force her presence on them? Perhaps it was best to just stand here and wait for him to see her…

Her decision was made for her when Gihara's companion saw her out of the corner of his eye and paused mid-strike, inadvertently allowing Gihara to land a "killing" blow. But Gihara's triumph was short-lived: he quickly realized that something unusual had distracted his friend and turned around.

At twenty-two winters, Gihara was a handsome man, with a pronounced jawline and deep-set brown eyes that now stared at Kaeli with disbelief. Then he smiled. Oh, Kaeli nearly wept right there at the sight of that smile.

Saying something hastily to his friends, Gihara sheathed his sword and ran to Kaeli. Unsure of what to do, Kaeli just stayed put and waited for him to reach her. Which he did, in only a few short seconds, and opened his arms to sweep her into one of his large, warm hugs which Kaeli had missed so dearly during their years of separation.

But Gihara did not embrace her. He paused only a stride from her, arms outstretched, staring at her face with confusion. Kaeli realized then that her eyes were welling with tears, and she dried them with the back of her free hand.

"Kaeli," Gihara said, lowering his arms. His voice had changed—become deeper—since last they'd seen each other. "What's… Are you all right? What happened? How are you here?"

Kaeli stared up at him, unable to speak as tears rolled with greater force down her cheeks. She made no move to stop these and instead walked into her brother's chest, feeling both warm and bitterly cold as his arms enclosed her.

What was she to say? How did one even begin to describe what she'd been through in this past year alone?

Words were inadequate, and so she wept. Ugly and loud, she wept into his starched, clean blue uniform, uncaring about the fact that all of the soldiers in this orchard were likely watching as this unusual scene unfolded before them. Gihara's arms just felt so _good_, and she was so weary, and…and…

Finally her tears slowed some, and Gihara pulled away, examining her more closely. He touched her hair—which was badly in need of a wash after her many days on board that ship—and wiped away the hot tears that were trickling from her chin. At last his hazel eyes landed on the blanket in Kaeli's arm, and his brow furrowed as he carefully pulled back a corner of the blanket.

The sleeping infant, hardly ten days old, scrunched her nose as the thin blanket left her face, exposing it to the light. She waved a pink fist in the air and opened her eyes a slit, glaring at the bright Western sky before curling toward her mother's breast.

"Her eyes," Gihara breathed. "Kaeli… Oh, sister…"

Kaeli began to cry again, nodding her head. "Her…" She sniffled and wiped her nose. "Her name is Aida. And—and I love her, Gihara. But the King…" Her throat tightened completely, making speech impossible. She looked around Gihara at the soldiers, who sleepy or not, began to take a great interest in what was happening before them.

"That Mena-cursed bastard," Gihara hissed. He tenderly took Aida from his sister's arms, touching the infant's puffy cheek with the back of his finger. "Kaeli, I'm so sorry. I've been trying to save enough to bribe the King into releasing you. I wasn't fast enough. I had no idea he would…"

"It's alright." Kaeli choked on the words. Her arm hurt from being held in that position holding the baby for so long, but she wrapped both arms around her brother and held him tight. He held her, too, with his free arm, and kissed the top of her head. _It_ is _alright now._ They were finally safe, her and Aida.

This whole year had been without a doubt the worst of her life, but that final week leading up to her escape on the _Lord's Compass_ had been the worst—the closest to Hell Kaeli ever hoped she'd get.

"Let's go home," Gihara murmured, and Kaeli nodded, swiping her wet arm across her face again.

_Home,_ she thought, following her brother with shaking legs away from the Keep.

_I'm finally home._

* * *

**Well, there you have it! I hope you enjoyed this quick peek at precious cinnamon roll Keith, the West, and, of course, dear, dear Kaeli and baby Vara. :) Reviews are appreciated for good service. Also, if it piques your interest, check me out on DA (link in my profile) to see character interviews, my attempts at poetry, and ****possible future one-shots****. I've been tagged to do three or four for Kyle so far in the past year. Hah. Have a great weekend, you all, and God bless.**


	9. Whenever You Are

_Whenever You Are_

* * *

_15, Ara, year 632_

* * *

Now, more than ever, Cole felt a sharp sense of regret and nostalgia as the bow caressed the strings of his beloved violin. Fingers flickering across the fingerboard, sound as soothing and enchanting as a candle's flame. With a tempo as subtle yet steady as the changing tide, the song carried Cole to days long past, when he'd perform with his family in stuffy taverns, quiet inns, or out on crowded streets during festivals. A rare sense of joy and peace fluttered in Cole's chest.

The music ended, and Cole sighed with an inexplicable reluctance, turning his eyes to a slit in the wall through which scattered rays of dawn light shone. Outside, Cole heard the soft but cheery murmur of children playing in the orchards.

When he had first awakened nearly four weeks ago with a half-healed broken back and had been informed of Overlord's demise, Cole had been dubious. Even now he had trouble letting go of his fears: Overlord had become a key player in Cole's life, and to think that he was now gone…

A few minutes passed in silence. Cole closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, mindful of his aching spine. With Kai's help, Ronin had been able to heal most of the remaining damage with his Gem. But Kai himself admitted that Cole would likely never be pain-free again. Perhaps with surgery once they returned to Ninjago, but Kai didn't seem hugely optimistic.

Much to Cole's own surprise, he was calm- almost resigned- about this prognosis. It wasn't too bad: he could walk, though he sometimes got strange, tingling pains in his legs. For this reason he always carried a cane with him: seemingly good days could turn sour on Cole faster than the Mena-cursed weather.

"Cole?" a voice addressed him, and he reopened his eyes and looked at his father.

The man who stood before Cole looked nothing like Overlord. With his peppered hair in a loose but tidy tail, Lou stood with a slight slouch whenever the violin left his shoulder. His face, once caught in a violent, perpetual sneer, had an aged and sallow look about it: though he was hardly into his forties, he looked old enough to be Cole's grandfather.

One could hardly blame Lou for looking this way. He had spoken little of his year as Overlord's host, but Cole had gathered enough to know that Lou had been lucid through most- if not all- of the traumatic ordeal. He admired his father for handling it so calmly.

Lou approached his son, holding out the violin. Their eyes locked momentarily, but Lou soon looked away. He'd been having trouble keeping anyone's gaze for longer than a few heartbeats since his awakening from the coma a week after his exorcism.

"You bet," Cole chuckled, reaching out for the violin as Lou handed it to him. Cole set it on his shoulder and put the bow to the strings, mentally recalling as many notes and measures of his father's song as he could.

Before he could begin, however, Lou's gentle hands went to Cole's elbows. "Does this hurt?" he asked, adjusting Cole's posture slightly.

Cole grimaced: the change, slight as it was, forced him to straighten the most sensitive part of his back.

"Mmm…" Lou recanted the change and instead moved the cheekpiece slightly under Cole's jaw. Then he tapped Cole's wrist. That last bit was only a habit. When Cole was a child, his father tapping his wrist was a reminder to keep it loose.

Cole's wrist was loose- had been, for a good number of years- but the habit seemed to have stuck, and Lou now did it with each lesson.

Then Cole actually turned his eyes to his wrist, and he noticed with some alarm that his sleeve had fallen halfway to his elbow, revealing a good number of his scars. His father had touched them deliberately.

"Relax your shoulders, son." Lou's voice, which had years ago been strong and proud as he instructed his boy, now had an unfamiliar, mellow bearing. As if he were afraid to speak any louder than a whisper. As if he'd spook himself if he dared raise his voice above that whisper.

"Breathe."

Bow resting lightly against the strings, fingers in position, Cole obeyed.

"Any pain now?"

"I'm fine, Father."

"Is there any pain, Coleman?" Lou added an edge to his quiet tone. Cole sighed.

"A bit. In my legs. Nothing unusual, Father. Please; I'm fine."

Lou nodded sympathetically. "Put that violin down for a moment."

"Father, please don't…" The plea fell on deaf ears. Cole tapered off with another rueful sigh as Lou ran from the room. Not one to disobey his father, however, Cole set the instrument on his lap. He absently strummed the strings with his thumb as he waited for Lou to return.

It wasn't long before Lou returned with a soft-skinned canteen. Setting this on the cot, he went to a corner and dragged out a crate filled with the few belongings that had been salvageable from the Overlord-induced wreckage of Cole's cave. Bringing the crate close, Lou gently lifted Cole's left leg and rested it on the crate.

"Father…" Cole objected.

"No," Lou countered firmly, lifting Cole's other leg up. "Hold still. Tell me when it hurts."

"Ah!" As if in response to Lou's demand an intense pain ripped through his right ankle. Lou fussed with his leg for a moment, ripping a thin pillow from the cot and situating it under Cole's feet. Then he took the first water bottle and slid it into the gap between Cole's lower back and the chair. The comfortably warm container offered Cole almost instant relief. He barely restrained a relieved breath.

He felt uncomfortable whenever Lou did things like this. But despite his father's newfound timid, almost mournful disposition, he was firm on things like this.

"Is that better?" Lou asked. Still his eyes remained averted, resting at best on Cole's hair or ears, but never meeting his gaze full-on.

"_Yes_," Cole said. "Quit fretting over me already. I promise, I'm all right." He set the violin on his shoulder and began to play his father's song.

"I didn't tell you to start, boy," Lou said, the smile evident in his tone as he cut Cole off. He pushed on Cole's head gently with his thumb. "You're still too tight." A light _tsk_. "You have such promise, son. But this injury is harming your posture…"

"I know," Cole said ruefully. "There's nothing I can do about it, though, except wait for it to heal. Kai says the pain should continue to go down on its own, as long as I'm careful."

"Yes, of course," Lou said resignedly. His thin fingers, which seemed to have been created for the sole purpose of playing music, ran along Cole's shoulders and arms with subtle gestures, tuning his son's posture as well as Cole's injured spine allowed.

And then, at long last, the anticipated command came.

"All right, Cole. Go on."

Inhaling, Cole ran the bow down across the strings. On the exhale he pushed the bow upward, fingertips stepping lightly through the intimate beginnings of the piece.

And then Cole was _there_, in that euphoric world where only he and his violin existed. His eyelids fluttered shut; all sounds of the outside world left him. He recalled his father's melody in his mind, and his fingers seemed to work on their own to interpret the piece.

This was one of Lou's "ear training exercises," which Cole had been playing on multiple instruments since before he'd even learned to speak full sentences. To some degree, at least: Cole's more recent pieces were astronomically more difficult than the little tunes he used to plink out on the piano with tiny hands that hardly spanned four keys.

The song eventually ended, and Cole reopened his eyes and set the violin on his lap. "I messed it up," he admitted. "On that transition between-"

"No," Lou said. "You deviated from my demonstration a few times, but you improvised wonderfully."

Heat rose into Cole's face. This was another aspect of his "new father" that would be hard to get used to. Three years ago Lou would have admonished Cole for forgetting the notes and playing the exercises wrong.

"You don't have to treat me like this," Cole said. "I was stupid. I'm the reason you're here, and Mother…isn't here anymore." _And Viola,_ he thought, but didn't say so out loud: Lou had already confirmed to him that Viola had died as an infant many, many years ago. This information frustrated Cole: what had Overlord done to make Cole's mind so pliable to his lies?

Lou's brows pinched with grief. "You were a fool," he admitted. "But for that I blame myself, Coleman. I should have been kinder to you." A sad smile that showed some white teeth. "If I had known that argument would have this big of an impact on our lives, I would have admitted fault on the spot and saved all of us this grief."

Cole murmured his agreement, looking down. "We both know I was in the wrong. And I shouldn't have run away like I did."

"Yes. Well…" Lou took the violin from Cole and held it to his own shoulder, his perfect posture demonstrating a lifetime of practice. "That's all in the past now, son, and no amount of wishful thinking will change that. Let's attend to the future." He looked down the length of the violin's neck at Cole, dead in the eyes, and smiled. "Are you ready?"

An inexplicable warmth filled Cole's being, and he returned the smile. "Whenever you are."


	10. Rock, Paper, Pens

**Hey, guys! :D I hope you enjoy this fluff! **

* * *

_Rock, Paper, Pens  
_

* * *

8, Ara, year 632

* * *

The first week after Overlord's defeat had been wonderful: Kai could not recall the last time he'd been able to rest peacefully, without fear of the plague, or Overlord, or any other number of things. He and Besai had spent many long hours engaged in topics of every sort: their favorite foods. Their strangest dreams. Stories from their childhoods, both good and bad.

But there had also been silence. Times of introspection, simply happy to be in each other's arms. It had been like a dream. One that Kai was certain he never wanted to awaken from.

After nearly a week, however, Kai was beginning to despise his bed.

Besai had been well enough to get up days ago: she'd been working tirelessly with Ronin in other parts of the infirmary from sunrise to sunset. But Kai, with his concussion and numerous broken ribs, was not so fortunate.

_It's not all bad,_ Kai reminded himself as he drew a slow, deliberate line across his parchment. Since Jay had found some paper and pens, Kai'd spent a good many hours lost in the sceneries of his imagination. Vast mountains overlooking still, serene lakes. The sprawling delta on the other side of Keitorin, where Prince Wu had lived alone for so many years.

His current piece, a snowy hill, dotted with leafless trees, brush, and boulders, was nearly complete. He'd been working on it since breakfast. It seemed ridiculous that such a simple piece would take him this long—really, the main body of it was just bent-up and intersecting lines—but he knew he needed to cut himself some slack. It was nothing short of a miracle that he was able to do anything with his perpetual headache, ringing ears, and ribs that stung every time he breathed too deeply. Not to mention, his attention span was at a low that even his eight-winters self might have had trouble capping. He just had to be patient with himself; he'd heal eventually.

Kai dipped his pen into the ink. Tapped the nib against the side twice, three times, so the excess drained back into the bottle. Hovered with his hand above the paper, contemplating his work. The hill reminded him of the place he used to go hiking as a boy, near Sheshin Keep. Trudging through knee-deep snow…little Nya following in his footsteps, breathing heavily and bundled in thick furs…watching birds flit through the leafless branches instead of the path before her…tripping…Kai needing to pick her up and brush the snow from her face…

Kai dipped his pen. Tapped it against the side three times. Remembered that he'd already done that, and exhaled, kneading his throbbing forehead with his free hand. He scrawled a number of intersecting, scraggly lines on the side of the hill. Dipped his pen again, and scratched the bush's shadow. His free hand fingered his earring as he worked.

A soft knock came at the door. Kai's pulse spiked, making his head throb harder for a number of heartbeats. Then breathed, setting the pen on his tray as the door opened.

Besai smiled at him, as she always did when she first entered the room, with her eyes flitting to her feet for a moment before meeting his.

"Hey," Kai said.

"Hey," Besai replied, hurrying to his cot. She hugged him tightly and did not let go.

Ignoring the deep, pinching pain in his healing ribs, Kai returned the embrace. Besai had always appreciated physical signs of affection, but in the wake of her sister's death, her desire for long hugs, hand-holdings, and the like had increased tenfold. Kai did not mind- in fact, he was beginning to learn that he needed and appreciated them just as much as she.

At long last Besai released him and ran her fingers through his hair. "How do you feel?"

Kai closed his eyes, reveling in her gentle touch. "My head's killing me," he said.

"Worse than this morning?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm…" Besai hopped onto her cot, set up right alongside his, and continued combing his hair. Her touch was preferable to any medicine: very quickly, his headache began to ease, and he at last opened his eyes. Spots danced in his vision; he rubbed his eyes and picked up the pen again.

"I have a joke," Besai said, halfway done with a four-part braid behind his ear.

Kai barely restrained a sigh as he turned to look at her, both perplexed and amused. Her blue eyes were alight as she tried—and failed, per the norm—to refrain from giggling. "Yes?" he prompted her, hardly able to keep his own smile hidden. Moons, she was just too adorable.

Besai took a deep breath, gathering herself together just enough to begin the joke. "Why can't you draw with a broken pen?"

Courtesy of Ronin and Jay, she had begun developing an odd and unexpected appreciation of silly jokes. But Kai didn't mind too much: it was great to see Besai take pleasure in such a simple and innocent activity.

And, Hosts consume him, her laugh was one of the cutest things he'd ever seen.

"I don't know," Kai said. "Why?"

"Because—" Besai cut herself off, retracting a hand from Kai's head to cover her mouth as she giggled, face turning pink. "Because…it's pointless!"

She buried her face in Kai's shoulder, shaking with hiccuping, squeaking laughter.

Kai groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Wow," he groaned. "Don't shake me, Sai. You're going to make me spill my ink."

Besai lifted her head, taking deep breaths, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

Kai chuckled, twirling his pen in his fingers. "Pointless. Did Ronin teach you that one?"

"No. Tina did."

"Ah." Kai dipped his pen and set it to the paper. Besai sighed lightly, now fully in control of herself, and combed her fingers through Kai's hair in slow, massaging motions, undoing the braid. They spent a few minutes in peaceful silence; the only noise came from the scratching of Kai's pen, and the intermittent voices and children's laughter in the grove on the other side of the wall behind them.

"It is a…what's the word…hill," Besai said, looking at Kai's picture. "Why are the trees dead?"

"They're not dead," Kai assured her. "It's wintertime; the trees lose their leaves when it gets cold. But in the spring they'll come back."

Besai tilted her head at the picture, clearly working hard to process this information.

"The trees all did the same thing a couple months ago while we were in Ninjago," Kai said. "And then while we were North, it was snowing. Remember?"

Besai nodded, rather pensively.

With some pain in his chest, Kai wrapped his arm around Besai. She leaned into his embrace, eyes still on the snowy hill.

"It's still missing something," Kai said, exhaling. "What do you think?"

Besai picked up the paper, careful not to smudge the ink, and examined it closely. "It looks…cold," she said.

"Cold?"

"Mmm."

"So…that's a problem?"

"No!" Besai said hastily. "It…it just needs to have something warm, too."

"Warm." Kai took the picture from her and examined it from all angles. "So…like, some clouds in the sky, with a bit of sunlight peeking through?"

Besai was quiet for a moment. "…No," she answered at last.

"Hmm." Kai set the paper back on its tray. "Well, I'm in no rush. I'll just take a break and…" The sound of pattering feet outside their room made him pause. He and Besai looked up. Moments later, the door opened to admit two children and their caretaker, Yuki.

Atgas and Alfdis, aged seven and eight winters, approached their mother. Atgas smiled at her mother.

"_Ydench'i_," Besai greeted them in the Dark Tongue, standing from the bed. She smiled warmly as she pulled them both into her embrace.

"_Dench'i_," they replied in turn. Alfdis returned her mother's embrace. Atgas, ever the shy one, did not.

Kai grinned and waved at Yuki, who stood in the doorway. "Thank you," he said. "You really don't have to do this every day…"

"No!" Yuki smiled, returning his wave. "Please, my lord. We've been over this. I enjoy watching them." She bowed at the waist.

Two months ago, Kai would not have given Yuki's formality much thought. He might have even thought it odd if she _hadn't_ bowed to him. But now, after all he'd been through, it only left him embarrassed.

"Please," Kai said. "If anything, we should be bowing to you, Yuki. Without you and your brother's help, we might never have escaped and defeated Overlord."

Yuki smiled halfheartedly, cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink.

Besai finally released the girls. She straightened turning her attention to Yuki, who, by this time, was as accustomed as Kai to Besai's newfound desire to hug everyone, and readily—almost eagerly—opened her arms to her.

"Da," said Alfdis, approaching Kai's bed, her younger sister close on her tail.

"_Dench'i, lidiyin'kee_," Kai said in the Dark Tongue, patting their heads fondly. "Hey, girls."

Alfdis, gray eyes bright with excitement, pulled something from her pocket and offered it to Kai.

"What's this?" Kai gasped, taking the smooth, flat rock from her little hands.

"_Hjdima_," Alfdis explained. A rock.

"Wow! Thank you, Alfdis." Though she didn't understand his language, his expression told the girl all she needed to know: she beamed and climbed onto the bed beside him. Atgas lingered beside the bed, eyes on her feet.

"_A'ti_," Kai said, holding out his hand. "_Kocho_, Alfdis. Come on. You don't need an invitation."

Atgas hesitated, looking back at her mother, who was now conversing in quiet tones with Yuki.

"It's all right," Kai coaxed her with a gentle smile, setting the rock on his tray and holding out his hand. "Climb up. Do you wanna see what I made?" He held up his picture for Atgas to see. Her eyes, the same color as her sister's—they could be twins for how similar they looked—widened with curiosity.

"Do you like that?" Kai selected a fresh sheet of paper from the table beside him and handed it to her. "Come on up. I'll let you draw, too."

Atgas accepted the paper, a confused look on her face. Kai pressed his lips together with thought. Their language barrier was such a pain.

"Um…here." Making sure both girls were watching, Kai picked signed his name on his picture. "See? Draw. _Kocho_, Atgas."

Atgas at last climbed up beside her sister. Kai proffered the pen to her, but she hesitated.

Alfdis finally realized what was going on and took the pen, speaking to her sister with excited words that Kai could not understand.

At last, with a nervous glance between Kai and her mother, Atgas took the pen. She tapped the paper with it; a blotch of ink grew on its surface.

"Here." Momentarily screwing the lid back on his ink so it wouldn't spill, Kai picked up his tray and set it over the girls' legs. Alfdis snatched up the hill picture and motioned for Atgas to set her own sheet down in its place. Atgas did so, and continued scribbling across the paper; careful, slow lines from the bottom of the page to the top, one after the other, pausing only to let Kai replenish her ink. Aldfis watched, enthralled. Kai smiled, glancing at Besai, who seemed to be wrapping up her exchange with Yuki. They embraced again, quickly, and then Yuki bowed once more to Kai and withdrew from the room. Besai shut the door and returned to her cot. She spoke to the girls in the Dark Tongue; Kai only recognized a few scattered words.

"Draw," Alfdis replied to whatever her mother had said, pointing at the pen in Atgas' hand. She beamed, and Besai returned the smile, nodding approvingly.

"Da's letting you draw?" Besai asked.

"_A'ah_." Alfdis thought for a moment, nose scrunching up. "…Yes."

"Good job." Kai petted her dark hair. Her grin broadened.

"Da," Atgas murmured, holding up the pen. It was out of ink again. Kai dipped it and gave it back.

"Ah, wait," Kai said, holding up a finger. He touched her inked-up paper to make sure it wouldn't smudge, then turned it over. "There you go."

Atgas' face lit up. She stared at the blank sheet with the closest thing Kai'd ever seen to a smile on her face, then set the pen to work. But this time, there were no straight lines. She drew an odd, roundish shape, followed by some squiggles on the top.

"_Choia_," she murmured, and unceremoniously handed the picture across Kai's lap to her mother. Besai took it, beaming. "_Mag'ji_, Atgas. Thank you."

Atgas tittered. She reached for a new sheet of paper.

"_Na_," Alfdis said. She spoke earnestly to Besai, who replied, shaking her head patiently.

"She wants a turn," Besai explained.

"Oh." Kai pondered this dilemma. "Well, I only have one pen… Can you tell them that it's Alfdis' turn once Atgas has filled this piece of paper?"

Besai nodded and translated Kai's verdict. Both girls looked less than satisfied, but Alfdis settled down nonetheless, and Atgas drew with slow deliberation, dragging out her time as long as possible.

Over the next hour or so, both of the girls- and Besai- received several turns with the pen. Atgas seemed to prefer her circles and scribbles. It took a while, but Besai eventually realized she was drawing portraits of her mother—_Choia_.

Alfdis, on the other hand, drew pictures of animals. There were birds, lizards, even a dog.

Besai drew landscapes, like Kai's. The trees in the grove inside the compound. The lake, and the gushing river that flowed from it.

Or, at least, that's what she claimed they were: in all honesty, her pictures were nearly as difficult to distinguish as Atgas'. And though Kai did tease her about it, he really did love the effort she put into her work. _She_ knew what she was drawing, and that's all that mattered.

Eventually, when the ink bottle was half gone and twilight fell, requiring that they light a lantern, the girls began to doze. Besai led them to their beds—a number of blankets spread on the floor on Besai's side of the small room—and they were soon asleep. Besai returned to Kai's side and burrowed under her blanket.

Kai, in the process of cleaning the ink splatters from his tray with a rag, frowned slightly. "You okay?" he asked.

Her head bobbed beneath the blanket.

"You feeling sick?"

"No."

"Tired?"

Another nod.

Kai patted the blanket over her head—she murmured indistinctly at this—then attended to the papers on his tray.

He spent the next few minutes examining the pictures his girls had made in the lantern's light, writing the artist's name on the back of each. Then he stacked them all and put them on the table: he was going to keep these forever.

After taking a drink of water Kai picked up his hill drawing from where it lay beside the lantern and examined it again. He paused, staring at a series of marks on the picture that hadn't been there when he'd last worked on it. "Aww…really?"

Besai shifted. Pulled herself to an upright position, rubbing her eyes. She must have dozed off for a minute.

"Sorry," Kai said. "Did I wake you up?"

Besai shrugged again, pulling her hand away from her sleep-shadowed face. "Still having trouble?" she asked around a yawn.

"After a fashion," Kai said, showing Besai the hill. She squinted at it.

"Who did that?"

"Judging by the oblong-ish shape with the strands of mutated hair sticking out of the top…Atgas."

Besai chuckled. Kai joined her, caught between exasperation and amusement.

"Well…now it's less cold, I guess," he said.

"I like it," Besai affirmed. She reached for the pen. "Let me draw on it, too. A bird in that tree, or—"

"No!" Kai attempted to snatch the pen from her, but she pulled it out of reach. "Besai—Ow!" He grimaced, hugging his throbbing ribs, helpless to stop her as she put the pen to the paper, scribbling into one of the leafless trees. "Sai…" he groaned, wheezing: it hurt to expand his chest enough for a full breath. "Help—No, please—I'm dying!"

"No, you're not. Hold still, and let me finish my bird."

Kai surrendered, turning his attention to breathing in a way that didn't make his ribs feel like fire. He groaned, feeling lightheaded, and hugged his chest._ Honestly, that woman…_ She didn't look it, but she could be quite savage when it suited her needs. _What did I get myself into?_

"There," Besai said, proudly holding up his defaced artwork. Now, slightly above Atgas's picture of _Choia_, there was another oblong(ish) image, smack dab in the center of a leafless cherry tree. This image, however, deviated from Atgas' in every other way: two circle(ish) things that Kai supposed were the bird's eyes near the top. Stick legs protruding from the bottom. Two other shapes—Kai did not dare try to identify their geometric(ish) names—on either side of the bird's body. Wings?

And, of course, who could forget the beak, a spot of ink so thick that Kai wondered how the paper didn't have a hole in it.

The pain in Kai's ribs subsiding, he untangled his arms and squeezed her hand. "It's perfect," he sighed, mirroring her smile. "Absolutely perfect."

* * *

**Gosh McDarnit, so much fluff. I hope you liked it- I've been slaving away at this for a whole week. Ridiculous. XD T'was a nice birthday present to myself, though. I'm fairly happy with how this scene turned out. **

***Commentator voice* A special thanks to my two dear friends, EMB and StoneByrd, who made this dream of mine a reality! **

**Seriously though. I've been trying without success to write KaixBesai fluff for so many months, but then I finally came to them for help, and...wow, it was a mistake not asking them sooner. Their suggestions really saved my skin here. And having EMB over my shoulder, critiquing as I tried to wrap this monster up last night, was a tremendous help. **

**I probably just looked like a lunatic, though, muttering to myself, slapping my face, and jabbing the backspace key every other sentence. **

**Did you guys enjoy? There's a nifty little box down below where you can leave your thoughts. :) Have a great weekend! **


	11. See Ya

**...Well. This was a very sudden development. X'D **

**Near the beginning of this week I started brainstorming ideas for a mysterious character that I knew _had_ to exist, but I hadn't given much thought to yet. Thanks to StoneByrd and EpicMoonBlade's help, though, this little baby came into existence! I hope you enjoy. :) **

* * *

_See Ya_

* * *

_5, Tera, year 633_

* * *

The island of Keitorin was alive with a thousand exotic sounds that blended to create a beautiful harmony. Birds, twittering and flapping their wings overhead. Trees, their tough leaves rattling in the breeze. Insects, hissing and chirping rhythmically all around her.

Noel could not restrain her excitement as she explored her new home. Using a nearby spring as her guide, she strolled through the trees at an easy pace, enjoying the potent heat of the sun on her face and the warm, soft sand under her toes.

It was all so new, so strange, so wondrous. Even after an entire day of wandering she could not wrap her head around the vastness of her new home.

_It's certainly different from what I'm used to,_ Noel reflected, thinking back to the North's chilly nights, sharp winds, and damp, mossy forest floors. The remote village of Han'gei had been her home until a little over a week ago, when they'd boarded the _Lord's Compass_. Over her twenty-four winters in Han'gei she'd grown familiar with every path, every tree, every lake.

Now she had to start over, and she rose to the challenge eagerly.

Granted, she probably should be back at her family's house right now, helping them unpack all their belongings after their weeklong journey across the ocean. But exploring the island was a far more exciting task. They could get along just fine without her for a few hours while she found a suitable place to relax and play some music.

Anticipation buzzed in her chest and made her fingers itch. She touched the strap of the guitar case slung across her back in a vain attempt to calm herself. She couldn't help but smile as she quickened her pace, moving farther and farther from town.

Every time she'd tried to play her guitar while on the ship, she'd gathered quite a crowd. It made her uncomfortable and, to be honest, a bit annoyed. She missed the woods near her old home where she'd been able to hide and play whenever the mood hit her. It was of the utmost importance that she find a new place like that here on Keitorin, as soon as possible.

And so she walked. And walked, and walked, always keeping that little nearby tributary on her left. There was no path here- as was made evident by the frequency of rocks and bushes that she had to navigate around with the help of her cane. This was a good thing: it meant that most people did not come this way. Which meant that she was less likely to be disturbed.

_Of course, a lack of paths and people could also mean that there's something dangerous up ahead._

She dismissed the idea and kept going. After all, it was hard to get anywhere in life without doing a stupid thing every now and then. _Cautious people never make the history books,_ her father always said. _They only write them._

And Noel sure as the thirteen moons wasn't good at writing books.

The ground beneath her feet grew rougher. She picked her way around rocks and holes. The spring made a sharp turn toward her, and she crouched to take a drink before following it further into the craggy terrain.

After a few minutes of splashing through the stream, Noel walked into the shadow of the mountain, where the air was chillier and the ground damp and slippery.

She found herself standing before the entrance to a cave. Raising her hand to feel the ceiling, she judged it just large enough for her to walk through without bending over. She entered, but carefully: she didn't want to damage her guitar, which, although protected to a degree by her soft leather case, jutted out several inches higher than her head. She kept a hand raised to feel the ceiling as she traveled through the dank, earth-smelling tunnel; the stream's gurgling was amplified in the enclosed space. She also heard the rhythmic rushing sound of ocean waves somewhere ahead. Wind hissed softly through the cave, tugging at loose hair that had escaped her braid.

Noel whistled sharply. The sound ricocheted throughout the tunnel, but came back to her almost immediately. This cave wasn't very deep. Was there an exit nearby, then, or would she be forced to turn around?

No. If she could hear the ocean, there had to be an exit. Her heart pumped faster. Where would this tunnel lead? She skirted a stalactite jutting from the ceiling. Bumped her head against another, smaller, stalactite right beside it. She rubbed her head ruefully- _Shoulda felt that one coming_\- and kept moving, more carefully this time.

The cave floor gradually sloped downwards, and the sounds of the ocean grew louder, until at last Noel found the exit to the cave. She dropped to her hands and knees, then ran her hands all around the opening to ensure it was big enough to fit her body. It was, but only just. She carefully unslung her guitar from her back and left it with her walking stick inside the cave, then crawled through the opening on her belly.

The sun again beat down heavily upon her, and the wind buffeted her face. She took a deep breath of the strong, salty air- which was a startling change from the cave's mellower scents- and rose to her knees. She brushed sand from her hand, then turned around and pulled her guitar and stick through the opening. She stood, slung the case onto her back again, and stepped forward.

The sand was smooth under her feet, unbroken by debris or stones. She walked out about twelve yards before the ocean lapped around her toes, gentle and bubbly, as if the water were stroking her skin.

_This is it, _she decided, and walked along the surf to measure the length of the beach. _This is the place._

The beach wasn't very long at all; about fifty feet from one end to the other, protected by the mountain three sides.

_My own little cove, _Noel thought proudly, and took her guitar from her shoulders with an air of finality and pride. She slid the instrument from its case, sat in the sand, and plucked all of the strings. Fiddled with a few of the pegs, and then plucked the strings again.

Without entirely meaning to, her plucking became a song. The strings vibrated under her fingers; she rested her chin on the warm body of her instrument, feeling the sounds through her jawbone and chest as much as hearing them with her ears.

Her fingers obeyed her every thought, conscious or unconscious. They voiced each trill that occurred to her, each chord that rose up to take the place of the last, skipping from string to string with memorized accuracy.

The steel fluttered with each note, whether high and clear or deep and resonating. Whether she muted the strings or let them ring clear, they penetrated her ribcage with warm tones. The ebbing percussion of the ocean tide accompanied her song. As did the seagulls far overhead.

It was a far cry from quality vocals. The seagulls did their best, though, and Noel had to smile at their shrill, happy screams.

A distant wail, different from that of the birds, carried to Noel's ears on the breeze. Her fingers closed over the strings as she turned her head, listening intently.

There it was again. A child, shouting, though she could not make out the words at this distance.

Noel slid her guitar into its case and stood, following the sound to the small mouth of the cave. She knelt and stuck her head inside. Yes, the cry was this way. _Hosts! Did a child follow me in here and get lost?_ She made her way back into the cave and ran as fast as she dared- one hand on the ceiling, the other holding her cane before her so she wouldn't trip on the rocks- back to the entrance.

The journey out seemed far longer than the journey in. She fell once, nicking her knee, but she got back up and kept going without pausing to assess the damage. There would be time for that later. For now, there was a bigger problem to contend with.

"Hello?" she shouted, grimacing as the sound reverberated on the cold rock walls. "I'm coming, hold on!"

The child's cry tapered momentarily. Then it began again in earnest. Noel still couldn't make out the child's words through their sobs.

Noel finally found the cave's exit. "Hello?" she called out again, turning her ear to the sound of the child's cry. She followed it away from the little stream and back into the sandy terrain away from the foot of the mountain. The child must have run away at the sound of her voice, because it didn't seem to be getting closer anymore. Noel broke into a fast walk, holding out her hand to feel for trees and other obstacles, cutting her feet on sharp crabgrass and bushes. _Maybe I should have worn shoes, _she thought with an internal sigh, but pressed on.

Moving faster did seem to help: she began to catch up to the child, and caught fragments of their words.

"_Choia!_"

It was the Dark Tongue. Noel knew only a handful of words in that language. Just enough to realize that '_choia_' meant 'mother.'

So this child was lost.

"_Cho-oia!_" the child bawled.

Noel finally closed the distance between the two of them. "H-hey," she said, softly, out of breath, resting her hands on her knees. "Hey, it's all right. Come here, I'll help you."

The child- a girl of about three winters, Noel guessed by the high tone of her voice- yelped in surprise and began to run again.

"No…" Noel groaned, and leaped forward, attempting to grab the child. She eluded her grasp, and the chase began again, this time with the girl _screaming_ in terror.

"Please, child!" Noel said, attempting to keep her voice calm and sweet, though her head was starting to hurt from all the noise. "I'll help you!"

The child either did not understand her language, or did not believe her. Her little feet scrambled through the sand; she sniffled noisily through the tears.

And then…silence.

Noel paused, frowning. She stepped forward carefully, listening for a telltale breath or sniffle.

There. Just ahead, and to her right. She crept towards her and touched her hands to the grainy bark of a tree, listening to the soft, shuddering breaths of the child crouching behind it. Noel's heart grew heavy with pity. _What kind of a world has this child been living in, where she has learned to hide so well at such a young age?_

The toddler's move might have fooled a sighted person. But Noel merely reached around the tree, grabbing the girl's arm. She hated to have to pull such a startling trick, but she had no choice if she wanted to help get her home: she clearly would not calm down on her own, and therefore had to be caught.

"_Na!_" the child screeched as Noel pulled her out from behind the tree.

"Hey, hey…" Noel dropped to her knees and hugged the tiny girl close, trying to restrain every flailing limb. "Shh…shh. It's all right, kid. Where's _choia_? Is she back in town? Let's- _Ah!_" She inadvertently released the child to grip the bite wound in her forearm. The child scrambled out of her lap and resumed her flight.

_Damn it!_ With tears of pain in her eyes, Noel rose to her feet. Blood trickled from the bite. Still, she ran after the hyperventilating toddler.

The girl was remarkably fast for her age. Noel struggled to keep up.

_Come on, girl,_ Noel thought with frustration. _If you would only let me help you, we'd all be happier!_

The girl tripped just ahead with a small _Oof!_ Noel barely managed to touch the child's hair before she was on her feet again, weeping, sniffling, stumbling through the brush.

Noel gripped a stitch in her side. The guitar on her back was starting to feel heavy. Fire seemed to surge down her throat with each gasp. She needed water soon._ If I feel like this, how badly dehydrated is the girl? _They both needed to get back to town soon- or at least retrace their steps back to the little spring.

The girl let out another shrill scream. Hosts, had she hurt herself? Noel rushed forward and-

She slammed into something hard. She let out a startled cry, twisting as she fell so as not to damage her guitar. The thing she'd crashed into also grunted in surprise.

The man took a few steps to right himself, then turned to her, chuckling nervously, and spoke in the Dark Tongue.

"I- I'm sorry, sir," Noel gasped, spitting sand from her mouth. "I don't understand."

A moment of silence. Noel rose to her knees and gingerly brushed dirt from her arms and trousers.

"Ah, sorry," the man said at last. He stiffly dropped to one knee. He held the toddler in his arms; her breaths were ragged and shaky, but she'd calmed down considerably. "Are you all right, miss? What's going on?"

"I have no idea," Noel huffed, keeping her head low so he wouldn't notice her eyes immediately; they tended to make people uncomfortable. "She was crying, and I tried to help her. But she just kept running away."

"And she bit you, too, huh?" He sounded apologetic.

Noel closed her hand around the bleeding mark to hide it. "It's all right," she said. "I'll get it taken care of back at home."

"I could take you back to my place and help you get cleaned up," he offered.

"I'm all right. Thank you."

Noel could hear the smile in his next words. "If you're sure," he said. "Here, at least let me help you up."

Noel almost protested. But she realized she _could_ use the hand up- her legs were trembling so badly, she wasn't certain she could do it alone. She held out her hand. The man grasped it firmly and rose to his feet, pulling her with him.

…Wait.

Noel cocked her head, listening to his footsteps.

Had this man _floated_ to his feet?

"Here," the man said, releasing her hand. He offered her a canteen of water, which she took hesitantly.

"…Thanks," she said, and took a long drink. She held it out, and the man took it back.

"How is the girl?" she asked.

"Heh." The man sighed. "Better now, I think. Poor child. I'll have to bring her back to town and figure out who she belongs to… I'm glad I heard her crying; it looks like you two really needed some assistance."

Noel's face flushed.

The man chuckled. "Did you arrive on the ship yesterday?" he asked.

"Yes."

"What's your name?"

"Noel Mekira."

"So it _is_ you. Your parents have been worried sick. You shouldn't wander off like that."

"Ohh, no…" Noel groaned. "They haven't been harassing everyone trying to find me, have they?"

"No, I don't think so," the man said. "But they did express concerns about your…wandering off…to my lieutenant, and asked her to keep an eye out for you."

…His lieutenant?

Noel's blood ran cold.

"Oh- that's right. I'm Jay Keith," the man said, perhaps in response to her alarmed expression. He bent down and grabbed something. "Here." He held it out- Noel took it, and realized it was her cane.

"Thank you," she said. "Um…I apologize, my lord. I should have recognized your voice and-"

"My name's Jay, not 'Lord,' " Jay said. "And don't apologize. It's fine, really. Can you get back to town on your own?"

"Yeah, I think so." She turned, putting the sun on her back, and pointed. "That way until I reach that little spring, right? Then I follow it upstream until I reach the main river, and then downstream from there."

"…Wow." The man whistled. "I've been living here for months now and I haven't got this place mapped out as well as you. Are you sure you've only been here a day?"

Noel realized then that if the Western Lord had noticed her condition, he'd made no comment about it. How peculiar. By this point in most conversations, people were expressing sympathy and asking if she needed to hold their hand so she could make it to her destination safely.

"Pretty sure," she said, and smiled back. "Thank you for your help, Jay. I might never have caught up to that kid without you."

Jay laughed. "Sure thing," he said.

"Do you want any help getting her home?"

"Naw. I think I've got it. You should probably head home before your parents die of a heart attack." He paused. "Though, I don't know why they're so worried. You can get along just fine on your own."

Noel's face got so hot she feared it might catch fire.

This man was _definitely_ different from most other people she'd met.

"Is your guitar okay?" Jay asked. "You fell pretty hard. I'm sorry; you probably couldn't hear me coming, huh?"

"I think it's all right," Noel said. She waved, attempting to force the blush from her cheeks. "Thank you for your help."

"Of course," Jay said. "I'll see you around, Miss Noel."

"Yeah," Noel said, and nearly smiled again at the irony of her next words. "See ya."

* * *

**First off, thank you sooo much, StoneByrd, for betaing this for me! I also set the responsibility of writing most of those guitar paragraphs on your shoulders, and you rose to the challenge like a freaking BOSS. You're awesome, sista. **

**So, I knew from pretty early on that Pixal and Jay would not get married- at least, not in this version of the story where she's a robot. (Although I will confirm that she remains on the Dark Island as Jay's lieutenant for many, many years after TG.) So, the question began to tickle the back of my mind: if not Pixal, then who? **

**Thus Noel was born. I knew from the start that she would have some sort of "disability," and I eventually settled on what you see (or, rather, _don't_ see) here. This happened for two reasons: Jay, as a "disabled" person himself, definitely needs a confident (but different) lady friend who will help him learn to become more confident in all of his own differences. **

**And also, writing from a blind person's POV sounded like a fun challenge. I highly recommend that all the writers here try it, too! It's great to get out of one's own head, writing without any visuals. **

**I think that covers it! I'll hopefully update TG next week, so keep an eye out for that... :) Thanks for reading, y'all! Reviews are appreciated. Have a great weekend!**


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